Partying With the Potters
by ForeverWithLove
Summary: An angry Ginny, a worried Harry, some excited kids, and a lot of Weasleys make for one hell of a party!
1. An Early Morning

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine. All J.K.R's!

The sun crept over the sill of the window, warming my face. I give a little sigh, and lay my head down on the desk, exhausted. That's why you should never procrastinate, I think tiredly. Or maybe I should try not to be such an insomniac. I guess that's maybe what having kids equals though. A hell of a lot of headaches, and having to work into the early hours of the night to get a little bit of work done.

Merlin, I think I need either caffeine or sugar. Maybe chocolate would do... Focus, self, focus! When you stay up till ten, sleep until 2 and then get up to do some of your work in the hours when your children aren't constantly arguing, you get a little exhausted. Ah well, I'm pretty sure that since I kept them up late that they'll be sleeping in until at least ten. I sneak a glance at the clock, and realize that it's only about nine.

I'm not sure that I can totally express how exhausted I am. It's like, there's a totally different world than the one I am currently floating almost blissfully in, and I'm not quite sure that I could bring myself to even acknowledge the existence of said other world.

Maybe today was just my punishment for having the stupidity to have three kids. I'm still trying to convince my mother to give me some survival tips. She just chuckles, and says that most of her lessons are things that basically have to be learned. Bull. There were some days where the kids were literally insane, and I have more than once been afraid that I'd have to persuade Harry to send them to an asylum. Maybe boot camp. I can totally see James just push-upping all his attitude away. Ah, the joy.

Or, you know, maybe the problem is really me. I can be in a bit of a er... grumpy mood occasionally. Usually if Harry's not home. Of course, life becomes more than slightly unbearable even if he is home sometimes. Why, I'm not sure, probably because of those kids. Actually, it was more directly connected to if Harry had to go on missions or anything that day. His favourite time, going off and saving the world like in those Muggle movies. Not appreciated there, buddy. That was when it all went to hell.

Harry sure went in to work early today. I think about the potential excuses he may have. Were there giants rampaging down the West End? Dragons in London? Nundus in Surrey? With Aurors these days, it was pretty damn difficult to know. For all I know, he may be lying in some bed in St. Mungos.

Bloody hell.

Way to go, Ginevra. Thinking myself into a panic-induced frenzy yet again seems to be becoming a talent of mine. Whenever he's on duty though, worrying about him just becomes my second nature. Quidditch games were my payback for it, and now with the kids that's out of the question. Well, I'll get him back for this someday.

I sigh as I think of what I've got to do today. At least all the work duties are done already. Thank Merlin for that. Probably the kids will want to do something all artsy today, just when I'm least in the mood for it. Of course, yesterday when I was all for finger painting they wanted to fly and made me teach them some of my plays. Damn kids.

Lately the world seems to be involved in some kind of conspiracy against me. Work papers getting lost, kids being stubborn, constantly absent husbands, what will this never-ending chain lead to next? I quickly rap on my wooden desk, because I have noticed that the world also has this big dislike for rhetorical questions. I mean, what did they ever do to you? I am definitely going to pray that all my rhetorical questions don't lead to pain. Hopefully nothing more happens other than me being an always annoyed mother and wife.

The birds began to sing in the early morning glory and I glared out the window at them. Merlin, am I in a bad mood. Stupid birds. They have no right to be singing so bloody early! I blink tiredly. Wow, I sound like Snape. I stand up and stagger to the window and fling it open. Why not? It's not like things can get much worse than they already are.

The gravel of our driveway crunches as a vehicle drives up. I crane my neck out to try to see who's there. The only one I can think of is Harry, and he usually floos to work. I hear the door open, and I shut the window furiously. I pull the curtains shut and turn off the light. He better be ready for his punishment now.

I heard him rustle around in the entrance way, almost as if he was biding his time. I heard him curse as he once again knocked over the empty watering can on the table. He seemed to reset it on the table, and then he walked down the hallway. He hesitated outside the door of my workroom, and I sat up in anticipation. Gleefully, I rubbed my hands together. Nothing was more fun than yelling at Harry when I'm in a bad mood.

The door creaked open, and I was on my feet instantly. I sucked in a huge breath, ready to let loose. Suddenly I saw the look on his face. It looked like someone had died, and my heart stopped.

"What happened?" My voice was a cross between a moan and a squeak if that's possible.

If it wasn't so serious, I would have asked for clarification of this thought.

"Ginny," he whispered, voice cracking. "I don't know how to tell you this." Oh Merlin, this is so bad.

"Tell me," I half-choked out. I wanted to get this moment of punishment from divine intervention over with as soon as I could.

"Don't shoot the messenger, Ginny. I'm so sorry." He looked at me, and I flashed back to when I found out that Fred, Tonks, and Remus were dead. Oh Merlin. I shot him the worst glare I could manage, seeing as I was near tears.

Suddenly, I realized what it could be.

Hell and damnation. Not again!

I looked at him and knew that the horror and fear on his face was now reflected back at him on mine.

"No!" I moaned. "It's too soon for this!"

Dear Merlin, if he's known about this or was in on the whole thing, I swear I will bloody kill him! He looked at me, and we both knew what he was going to say next. I wanted to say no, that I knew and he didn't need to say anything. Yet, I needed to have it vocalized first so I could begin to accept it. Yeah, right. I am never going to accept it and I'm just holding out false hope that I could ever begin to overcome this little problem.

"The Weasley family party is today."

Bloody hell. I was right.

Author's Note:

My first attempt to write. Like it or not?


	2. Sarcasm, A Way Of Life

Have you ever had one of those moments where for a second you're happy that you are right, then horrified at the actual guess? I hope that they all know that the only way that I could be happy about this is if hell freezes over. If then. Of course, I wouldn't be even considering going at all except for the fact that Mum would be disappointed in me for the next decade if I didn't make a quick appearance. Shall I just run in and then book it back out?

Unless you've been a Ginny Potter in a past life, I would guess that you seriously have no idea what it means when there's a family get-together. I would like to state for the record, however, that family party is pretty much a direct translation to hell on earth. I stare at him for a moment, and wonder what he will do with my body, after I die from the pain that this party causes me. Hopefully, I'll just be cremated so that I won't have to haunt some ghoulish headstone for the rest of my eternal existence. Though I'm thinking, that, you know, because it's me, that there is definitely a high chance of haunthood.

Whoa. If you actually think about what I've just been thinking about, it makes next to no sense. I've never actually thought about cremation until Great-Aunt Muriel finally died, and her will said that she was to be buried. Which, for your information, never actually happened because Mum and everyone else were bloody terrified she's come back and haunt the tiara or something, and Fleur wanted it for her daughters. Of course, I was definitely expected to argue but I decided there was really no point. It would definitely clash with our hair. So I just kind of... let this treasured heirloom pass on to the other Weasleys. And I definitely agreed with the overall assessment of the situation. I mean, how could you give your daughter a tiara to wear on her wedding day, and have it ruin the whole ceremony because her dead Great-Great-Aunt Muriel popped out of the tiara for a visit? So, after many arguments, we finally just got her toasted and Mum went and scattered her bits in the ocean, you know, just in case. I, personally, am now permanently afraid of the attic, because that's where they had her body sitting until they could finally agree on what to do with her. Gag.

That, and marrying Bill, are the only sane decisions I can ever remember Fleur making.

Right, back to business. Harry's just staring at me, likely shocked that I have yet to run screaming from the room. I make a reflex decision, and stand up.

"Let's go. Time to pack for that... er... surprise trip to Majorca we've been planning!" Yeah, I'm just that good. Majorca? Why Majorca? As far as I can remember, no one has ever even _mentioned _Majorca to me. Harry just raises a slim black eyebrow and his brilliant green eyes stare at me piercingly. Merlin, he's still hot. Seriously, Al's lucky that he looks like his dad and got none of the random Weasley traits.

Was I just thinking that my son was hot?

Focus, Ginny, focus.

"Majorca?" He says curiously, sounding like he's trying to stifle a laugh. Probably something that I should try to remember why he's laughing, but I'm too scared to even bother.

"Hurry!" I urge, "they'll find out soon. They're always listening, for flight plans." And for some reason, without even meaning to, I cock my ear toward the wall. Okay, maybe I am a little insane. At this point, Harry is not even trying to hide his laughter.

"Ginny, I think we're just going to have to face the music. I mean, between your entire family, even if we fled I think we'd be brought back here within a week."

"Well, we can experiment with that idea then!" I say as inspiration strikes me. I turn my puppy dog face towards him, forgetting that he's not my dad, and that I'm begging him to just pick up his entire life and flee just because I'm scared of a silly little party. Except, of course, it's nowhere near little.

"Ginny..." I can tell by the way he's looking at me that I have already lost. Good Merlin. I want to cry. "We can't just go. You know as well as I do that they'll find us and that there is basically no point in running other than to prolong the whole thing. And why, in the name of Merlin, am I talking about them like they're the bloody Mafia?"

I smirk at the last comment. Well, they deserve it. But I would have to say that my family is actually a _hell _of a lot more scary than the bloody Mafia.

Maybe we can see if we can find connections between my brothers and the Mafia and get them arrested. I can see the moment now... I am a rather vengeful person occasionally. Better make sure to keep this hidden from Harry till the kids are thirty.

"Fine," I snarl. "I'll go, but I'm going to hide in the kitchen with Mum the whole time."

Suddenly, the inspiration for another argument against going strikes me in the head. Hello, Captain Obvious!

"Well," I smirk evilly, "what do you think Al's going to have to say about this development? Think he's gonna be pleased, Potter? Or James? Lily? Make sure not to give them any sugar this morning, because they are going to be getting more than enough tonight!"

It's sad that even though I'm a Potter, I call him _Potter _when I'm angry, and he calls me _Weasley._ Though I can definitely see why a person would say Weasley like a cuss.

Harry blanches at this thought. As he very well should. Those kids are bloody _dangerous _at these parties. And with sugar... well, let's just say that is one of the many reasons I have to dislike these parties.

Of course I love my kids, but they can be quite a bit insane when they want to be. And I get very, very frustrated when they make me play all these random games at random times when I'm already bloody tired.

"We'll tell them together," Harry decides.

"I believe you were the one who was convinced me that it was safe to go to this party, Potter. I think telling the kids is definitely your problem." Especially Al. I'm definitely going to watch as he breaks the news to that kid. I actually feel bad for Albus.

Payback for all those missions, Harry!

I resist the urge to laugh evilly. It's harder than it should be.

Harry just looks nervously at the stairs. I watch as he turns his head from them to me and back again. Hehe. This is truly enjoyable. And I'm just getting into a bloody fantastic Snape-like sarcastic mood. To tell the truth, sarcasm is, when the kids aren't around, my way of life.

As I'm sure you can tell.


	3. Kids, Kids, Kids

Somehow, my husband gets me to help him in the dastardly secrecy he is planning. What a Gryffindor he is, not even going to tell the kids about the party until the last possible moment. Because they are, you know, our intelligent little brats, I'm pretty sure that they will find out using their observation skills, but I make the wise decision to keep this thought to myself.

I mean, we're all stressed enough without a Harry-and-Ginny-enormous-blow-out happening before the ruddy party!

Unless, he somehow kills me and I can avoid the party because I'm dead.

So, after plotting for about an hour, I manage to rouse myself with a combination of coffee, chocolate, and pop and I go into the kitchen to prepare something that I can take as a peace offering. And it has to be something that I would normally bake. So that leaves us with brownies, thankfully the easiest thing that a person can bake. Especially if you add in my mum's "_Everything has to be baked by hand_" philosophy, which makes me seriously consider denying to be her actual child.

At least, that way I would have a true, legitimate reason of getting out of this everybody-gets-totally-wasted party.

So, as I'm basically throwing the contents of one of those life-saving brownie mixes in a bowl, Harry's sitting at the kitchen table staring at the T-chart he's making of the things we actually need to tell the kids, and the things that we don't. Well, it actually isn't his choice, I basically bullied him into it.

"Do we actually have to tell them that the bathrooms are the best place to hide?" Harry says, looking up at me with a questioning look on his face about the random notes that I jotted down for him. "Merlin, Gin, they've all been to these parties before, it's not like they haven't figured out where they can go to run all the others!"

I don't really have a good explanation for that. I guess I just have this weird feeling that something's going to happen, and for some reason or another, they're going need a place to be safe.

"If I'm going, you're going to bloody well tell them that, Harry." I say in the coldest voice I can possibly do while throwing eggs in with the mix. I think I may need to work on this voice thing in the future.

You know, when I have time.

Harry just rolls his eyes at me, but doesn't cross it out because I have taught him quite well. You never, _EVER,_ cross me when I'm on a rampage about these parties, especially when I'm baking for the damned thing.

Speaking of that, the batter's finally ready, and I'm sticking it in the oven. In my opinion, the only reason that baking's even tolerable is the results. I'm practically salivating over my mixing stick already.

Ah, the joys of being a wife. We can hoard our mixing sticks that I can never remember the names of. Harry's giving the stick _the look_ at the moment. I can tell that at any moment...

"Gin, can I have a bite?" Harry asks, using his sickly sweet I-want-some-batter voice. I just give him a look, and he seems to know what the answer is, but continues to stare. Sigh. I mean, I can't really keep it from him, right? This isn't weak, he never got any as a kid so now I have to try to give him the brownie batter experience.

Okay, I am weak.

I give this world-worn sigh, and hand him the spoon. He takes possibly the biggest lick of a spoon I have seen in my life, and that's saying something! Considering I'm a Weasley and we have the appetites of... actually, I can't even think of an animal that eats as much as we do.

Why am I making brownies anyway? Why don't I just make something magical that everybody actually likes? I guess its because... well, I love brownies! And plus, it's a very rare occurrence to surprise anybody in this family with food, and brownies have become my trademark food. Which is kind of pathetic to think about, because they are definitely on the list of "Easiest Dessert to Make".

Not that I've checked or anything.

Who am I kidding?

Harry hands it back to me, and I quickly polish it off, as we Weasleys do. Except the whole I'm-a-Potter thing kind of ruins the overall effect of this nice little analogy or whatever on my part.

Harry seems to sense my moment of vulnerableness in the face of brownie batter, and he jumps up.

"We better go get ready," he says enthusiastically. Well, as enthusiastically any man that's facing death can. Oh wait, he's Harry Potter. He does this every day! "_Quietly, _Ginny, _quietly." _

He seems to have noticed my loud nature. And I may have this sort of bad habit of knocking random things over at worst possible moment.

I profess that it's just nerves, but he disagrees and says that it's just my true nature coming out under stress.

Tehe.

Together we slowly begin the rickety climb of the staircase, and do our best to miss the squeaky stair. I'm not quite sure how well I succeeded. Because Harry's got the whole graceful as a gazelle thing down pat, I look like a giant as I stagger up the stairs next to his sweeping gait. How embarrassing.

Too bad that I am way beyond caring.

Someday, Ginny, someday.

Lily is seriously lucky that she got his grace, and not mine. She looks exactly like him when she dances into the kitchen every morning, so happy. She must have got my disposition.

Snort.

Harry brandishes his wand like a sword as we reach the top, and points it at each door one by one.

"They're still asleep, we've got some time," he says, using the tone that sounds as if we're invading Death Eater territory and got lucky or something.

So, because I'm Ginevra Potter, I say as seductively as possible when on caffeine, "Time to do what, Potter?"

He looks at me like he's mentally undressing me, then seems to shake himself. He glares at me. "Remember what happened last time that someone got some naughty ideas, Ginevra? Remember how we ended up actually having to Obliviate the kids because they were so traumatized? I don't think we need a repeat."

Oh. Ha, I actually was starting to forget about that. Did I Obliviate myself by accident, too?

He pauses, then does a weird little side-step, then makes a dash into the main bedroom. Giggling mentally, I try to copy his actions and end up crashing into the wall with a loud thud. Ow.

"Bloody hell!" I curse quietly under my breath. Then again, there's not really any point in being quiet since there is a very good chance that I just woke up the devils. I hold my breath, and listen for any disturbances on the sleeping front. I look up sheepishly, after nothing happens, into the face of my husband, who has obviously came to see my humiliation.

"Like I said, Ginny, _quietly."_ He's trying to give me his own version of the glare-of-death, but because I am the only one who can do it properly in this family, and I can see the twinkle of the laughter in his eyes that he's trying to hold in, it has no effect whatsoever.

Haha, Harry. Haha.

Because I can definitely not take a glare like that lying down, I stand up. I give him my you-did-not-actually-just-glare-at-me glare, and flounce past him into the room. I spin and watch him come in and when he just looks at me, I know I have to defend myself.

"It's all your fault," I say, happy to have somewhere to put the guilt of this little episode. "If you hadn't done that ruddy side-step of yours-"

"Oh, so that's what got you!" Harry interrupts, smirking. "That always gets you, doesn't it?"

I really have no defense to this whatsoever, so I just sit down on the bed.

Still smirking, Harry begins to throw some of his possessions into a bag. Quick tip: Never, ever, ever, EVER go to a Weasley family party without a spare outfit and knickers. Ever. I don't want to tell you why, but you just don't.

Seriously.

I sigh, and start throwing my own clothes into a bag. There. I have just enough for a week, in case I need to run or whatever. Surprisingly, this actually just isn't me being paranoid. It's serious.

We just stand around, throwing things into separate bags for a few moments. I'm amazed when I notice that we're doing some weird kind of synchronisation. We are odd, aren't we?

I'm about to point this out to Harry, who would probably just laugh at me, when I hear a yawn.

Bloody mother of Merlin!

I freeze on the spot, and slowly begin the creep toward the door. I risk a glance at the clock on the nightstand, and it's only 11! Hey, we actually got an hour more than I thought we would! Wow, they must have been seriously tired from yesterday.

"What's wrong?" Harry asks in a hushed whisper. He's lucky that he's got the whole quiet voice thing down, I definitely don't. Yet.

That will be part of my New Years Resolution: Learn to be a good parent like Harry.

Ha.

"I heard a sound, " I hiss at him, without even turning around to look. I can practically hear his body tense up. I feel him glide in next to me, and it's hard to believe that anyone can look so bloody handsome when they are so scared.

I can feel him trembling. Oh, never mind, that's me.

I can feel him next to me, and suddenly, I want to kiss him goodbye, in case this is the last time I ever get to be near him. I look up into his face appreciatively, and his deep green eyes stare back at me. Damn kids.

I hear another yawn, and one of those stretching mews that Al inherited from me. I breathe out slowly, almost in relief, because at least it's Al, not James. Then I remember.

Dear Merlin, their rooms are next to each other! And when one's awake...

The other's soon to follow.

I turn and look at Harry again, and we share matching looks of horror. Bring on the kids!

Like the adults we are, Harry and I walk down to the kitchen as calmly as we can, trying to beat the kids down.

Basically meaning, we sprint. Quietly, in Harry's case.

Me? Not so much.

I nearly fall down on the stairs, which might not be because of my clumsiness, but may be a result of complete panic. I just have to pull myself up, and try not to burst into tears. Which is odd, because I don't really want to cry. It would just be seen as a sign of complete and utter weakness. I can not look weak. James, Al, Lily, and Teddy would just take total advantage of that...

TEDDY!

"Harry, we forgot to schedule Teddy in! Our plan is ruined!" I breathe as slowly as I can, trying not to hyperventilate myself to death. We definitely have to floo Andromeda as soon as possible, or there's no way in hell that Teddy won't have plans. But that means... we have to tell him!

Crap!

Seventeen-year old kids definitely ruin the best of plans.

Harry is just looking at me, and again I can sense the amusement in his eyes. He tries to cover it up with a scared expression, but it doesn't really work. I give him a glare, but it's weaker than it really should be.

Sometimes, a witch just doesn't have the strength she used to. And it's a sad, sad day.

"You have to do it," I say decisively, before turning away and peeking into the fridge for lunch ideas. "He's your godson!"

"That's not fair!" Harry says indignantly, though I think he can recognize that he's basically talking to a wall. He can't really deny that, since I've never been technically named his godmother, it's just something we've all understood. One of those unspoken rules.

In my opinion, unspoken rules suck most of the time, because you can never get any proof that they ever existed at all.

Except, in this case.

Hehe!

Harry reconciles himself with the fact that, yes, it will be him that has to do it. He sighs, and begins to walk over to the fireplace while I break out in a foolish grin. Score 1 for Ginny!

The floo whirs, and I turn to look as Harry sticks his head through.

"Hi Teddy, is your grandmother there?" Harry sounds really awkward when he says it, I would bet money that Teddy can sense that somethings up. Harry has always been a crap liar.

"Hello Andromeda, I have something I need to discuss with you in private, please?" What? I thought he was going to tell... Oh! I get it! Sometimes, my husband is a genius. While he's speaking, I can hear the sound of footsteps as they come down the stairs. It sounds rather... ominous.

Oh Merlin.

Harry notices too, and wraps up his explanation as quickly as possible.

I can almost hear Andromeda laughing at him. Oh wait, I can!

"Bye, Andromeda. Thanks!" Harry quickly pulls his head out, and casts a quick charm to get rid of the dust.

"Morning, Mum! What's for breakfast?" Al comes into the kitchen, still in his pajamas and his hair looks, well, like his father's.

"And what died?" James comes down just a step behind him, his own Fred-and-George smile plastered on his face.

Crap. What more can I say?

I whirl, and cautiously open the oven. A wave of thick, black smoke comes out, and sends us all into coughing fits.

Mother of pearl!

"Oh MERLIN!" James and Al yell together, and I kind of flinch away. I have to admit, that it really is that bad. We're all going to smell like fire for days.

Hey, maybe we'll set off the alarm tonight!

But, on the other hand, there goes the brownies. Sigh.

"That better not have been breakfast," James says with a glare, as he points at the ruins of my beautiful brownies. "There's no way I'm gonna eat that!"

Al nods his head in agreement.

"What happened?" Lily asks as she walks into the kitchen, a big grin on her face that kind of looks like mine. She wrinkles her nose. "It smells funny."

I'm betting that the whole James-and-Al-yell-together thing is what woke her up. It looks like she just rolled out of bed.

"Your mother just burnt something she was trying to make for you," Harry says in his most cheerful, upbeat sounding voice.

"Can we go watch the telly while you make breakfast?" Al asks in a hopeful voice. "There's a show me and James-"

"James and I," I automatically correct.

"-have been meaning to watch." Al just rolls his eyes. That silly nine-year-old attitude that he's already got. He's probably going to be as moody as his father as a teenager.

James doesn't even wait for the answer, just books it into the telly room before we can say no. Al looks at Lily, and she sighs as she follows them in.

All I can do is stare after them in stupidity. Wow. I am not very bright.

"I'm thinking cereal for breakfast..." Harry says carefully as he begins pulling bowls out of the cupboard.

"We can't just give them cereal," I say logically. "It's almost lunch!"

"Well, what's your plan for the meal then? I sure don't have another one!"

"Cereal it is, then!"

I reach up to grab the five different cereal boxes we have. Sad that we all like our own cereal, and none of us will even touch someone else's box.

"Ew!" I hear Lily squeal. "Mummy, James farted!"

James and Albus are laughing hysterically. Harry grins at me as I roll my eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Lils. It's time to eat anyways."

Lily comes out first, and she looks like she's going to freak out at any moment.

"They did the pull-my-finger thing again, Mum! I hate it when they do that!" Thanks, honey, I could tell by the expression on your face before you told me.

"Boys will be boys," I say with a sigh. "Next time, just threaten to put make-up on them, and all your problems will be solved.

"Thanks Mum!" Her face brightens as she contemplates that idea. Then...

"Will I be in trouble?" She looks really worried and I feel slightly bad for her. The fun of being the only girl.

"Not if you don't get caught," I lean down and whisper in her ear. She grins at me happily and gives the thumbs up. Her smile makes it all better. Almost.

I wish I was seven years old again, with little problems like brothers. Instead, I get to be just over 34 years old, with a party of torture today. Great.

Well, we're doing pretty well on the normal day front. Lily's annoyed, I'm grumpy, Harry's amused, and Al and James are giddy. If that's not a normal day, I don't know what is.

"We're having cereal?" James says in a disgusted voice as he looks at the table.

"I thought you like cereal!"

"I do, but _Mum_, it's almost lunch. You don't eat cereal for lunch."

"Well, we do. Eat it."

"I don't _wanna_." James crosses his arms, and Al looks at his brother, as if trying to decide what would be best to do.

By the expression on his face when he looks at me, I think he can definitely tell how annoyed I am. Al, being the smart kid he is, just takes a step back from his brother and smirks.

"James. Today is not the day." Weird, I'm not at the yelling stage yet. James is really bad at taking hints though.

"I won't eat it." I can tell by the set of his face that he won't, he has that blasted tenacity of his father's!

Unluckily for him, I have my own stubborn streak. And it's feeling very annoyed today.

"JAMES SIRIUS POTTER! YOU ARE GOING TO EAT THAT CEREAL AND ENJOY IT! IF YOU DON"T, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU ANOTHER BOWL OF IT TO EAT AND YOU WILL EAT BOTH BEFORE YOU LEAVE THIS TABLE!"

Hmm. That feels much better. There was that nice rant that I was looking forward to when Harry came home, and he denied me of it. Oh well, at least we have a son who needs to be yelled at once in awhile. Merlin, I love James.

Lily and Albus are just smirking at their brother, who stands there staring at me in a slightly terrified way. They grab his arms, and push him into his seat at the table, and they sit down into their respective spots.

I, of course, have no time for trivial little things like food. I have brownies to remake!

I feel like Mum as I bustle around the kitchen.

Holy Merlin, this is every girl's worst nightmare! Becoming their mother.

Hell and damnation.

Though there isn't much I can really do about it today, I have far more important things to worry about like children and brownies and parties.

I can feel the kids watching me in awe as I move like a gazelle. Okay, more like an elephant, but still!

"Daddy, " Lily pipes up, obivously tired of the continuous staring, "will you teach me to be a seeker today? I wanna beat James!"

James glared at her, because he knew she would have an advantage once she got some idea of what to do because she was a lot smaller than him.

Girl power!

The brownie mix is finally done, and I put it in the oven. This time, I actually set a timer.

I know, big improvement.

I sit down at the table. Flop might be a more accurate description though. I take a bite of my cereal, and begin shoveling it down as they discuss Quidditch.

"What about you, Al? Seeker or Chaser?" Lily asks in that little curious voice she has that can be both annoying and cute, usually at the same time.

"Er..." He quickly glances at his father, as if to see his reaction. "I like Chaser better so... I'm thinking that I'll get Mum to help me with that sometime."

Ha! Victory! I give Harry the you-owe-me-10-galleons look.

I know, betting on our children is shameful. But it seems to be my only source of income these days, because I at least have that down to a science.

I can't wait until we can bet on their romantic lives. I'll definitely win on Lily's, because Harry will probably bet that she won't date til she's thirty. Um, she is our daughter!

Maybe he should try to be more like me. Then again, I don't really do anything other than mope around and pretend that I'm playing or watching the telly with them. Usually, I'm cat napping.

I'm lucky compared to others. I've always had that remarkable talent of looking like I'm there when I'm actually having these awesome dreams about our honeymoon in Jamaica...

Whoa, too much information!

I look at my watch. 11: 55 am.

1 hour and 5 minutes to go before judgement.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hope you're enjoying it! Please review!


	4. Pick Your Poison

The countdown is on.

Though, the major question isn't about the countdown, it's really about how long we can keep this whole thing a secret. I'm actually surprised James hasn't figured it out yet, he's the one who remembers the last party best.

Excuse me while I shudder.

I decide to walk up the stairs, and leave very harsh orders for Harry to take out the brownies when they beep.

Merlin help him if he forgets.

I look over my shoulder as I walk up the stairs, and see James eying me suspiciously. Crap. Taking advantage of my brief pause, he sprints the stairs to where I am and then sidles up to me.

"Mum," he says sweetly, and I think of a devil in angel's clothing. "What are you so worried about?"

"No-no-nothing!" I stutter out, kind of giving away the truth of how scared I am.

He arches one of those black eyebrows. I have noticed recently that his eyebrows are quite a bit bushier than Harry's. Hey, how come James and Harry can do that eyebrow thing? That's so cheap! I resist the urge to stamp my foot, and instead just let out a frustrated gust of air.

"I think there's something, Mum. Could I guess?"

"NO! I mean, no." I squeak and dodge past him, practically running up the stairs.

Bloody, buggering hell!

I think he may have an idea.

Please, if there is any mercy in this world, do not let him tell Albus and Lily!

Or have him tell me that he's going to tell them, it's always interesting to see Albus's reaction to bad news!

Hehe.

The last time we went to one of these parties was two years ago. After that, we found out when the next one was oging to be, and made sure that there was no way in hell that we'd be home. If I'm going to be honest, we pretty much would find out, then book a plane trip to Las Vegas. That way, Dad would be thrilled and Mum would have to huffingly go along with it.

I'm thinking they noticed this year, though, that we avoided the last one. They are sneaky like that.

That's a lie. Harry and I are the sneaky ones in this family.

Except, Weasleys are basically my equivalent to the Muggle Mafia or whatever, because at least the Mafia aren't out to get me. Stupid George and his barbaric ideas. And stupid Ron, for agreeing with him!

Why Harry is Ron's best friend, I will never know.

Or understand.

I arrive in my room and shut the door as quickly as possible. I turn the lock, and cast some sort of anti-picking charm that Harry found. Thank Merlin that he's an Auror!

I lay on my bed and meditate. It's all about clearing the mind, and I'm trying to convince myself that maybe this party will be okay, that we'll all come out alive and happy. Ha.

I wish.

Inspiration strikes me.

I grab a quill and a paper, and begin my letter as thus:

_Dear Harry, James, Albus, Lily, and the rest of the family that killed me,_

_I'd like to state that I am almost of sound body and mind when I write this, though my soul seems to in agony. If I die today, at this party, or go missing for a prolonged period of time, here is how I would like everything to be divided up in my absence._

_Harry will receive three quarters of my Quidditch money, and he also gets my body to do with what he likes. Not in a perverted way, George! I'd kind of like to be cremated, as I don't want to haunt some bloody tombstone for the rest of my eternal existence. Instead of Moaning Murtle, I'd be Grumpy Ginny or something idiotic like that. Harry also gets my share in the house and I hope he will do right by it. Please remember that houses have feelings! He also gets first pick of my personal possessions that aren't listed below._

_James, Albus, and Lily get the other quarter of my money to be put away into they graduate from Hogwarts. If they don't, then no money from Mummy for them! They also can have my Quidditch play books and my broom to split. As in equal. I'll include a how-to-share graph for you, because I really have no faith in your sharing abilities. I mean, seriously kids! You suck at it. You get all the little kid books that I've been buying over the years, meaning to read to you, but none of you were ever very interested in stories since you were five so the books have just been collecting dust. You guys get second pick of everything else._

_George gets my tombstone if I get buried. If I have to haunt somewhere, might as well be a joke shop where I can creep some kids out._

_Ron and Hermione get my manual for you-know-what. I've heard that they've been having a little trouble with it, because Ron always bragged about how he was going to have a huge family. I always assumed that this was because he couldn't keep it in his pants. Er... don't you only have two kids? And for the record, don't even ask why I have a manual for this. Just don't._

_Bill, Fleur, and kids get all the cute little baby clothes that I have. Most of them never really looked good on the trio because it didn't really suit their colourings. Your kids are midgets anyways, so you should give them a try._

_Charlie, I bequeath you my model of the Hungarian Horntail that I stole from Harry. Tehe. I have no idea what the hell you are going to do with it, seeing as you already have like thirty of the bloody things, but it's yours._

_Percy and Audrey, please borrow the you-know-what from Ron and Hermione. Audrey looks like she hasn't got anything worthwhile in a long, long time. To enhance this idea, I will also leave Audrey all my knickers. Oh, and you can have that tea package that you have been staring at ever since you came over to the house. It's not my fault that I put it on the wall, that's what tea worshippers do!_

_Mum and Dad, you can have whatever Harry and the kids don't want. Please, don't let George get all my personal stuff, or for all I know, he'll try to bring me back! I don't want to have to come back to hell again!_

_Thank you all for your cooperation, and I sincerely hope that all my wishes are fulfilled. Otherwise there will be hell to pay! Literally._

_With love and hatred equalling,_

_Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter_

I sign my name with a flourish. Ha. Now isn't that beautiful. If I were an emotional person, I would be welling up with tears at the thought of my own death. And if I were overly dramatic, I would be calling up the crematers.

No need to do that, I've done my research so it's already decided in my other will who will be the one who receives the joy of burning my body. Suckers.

I hope they make sure I'm dead before they begin to burn me. I've always had a big fear of fire ever since Fred and George tried to burn off all my hair when I was three. Luckily, the sofa was the only thing that caught fire, and Mum gave them the best rant they've ever been given to date. Actually, the best rant that Fred was given in his lifetime. It was acutally amusing, except for the fact that it was my hair. That rant of Mum's was definitely on her top ten.

I lay on down on the bed and stare at the ceiling in deep reflection. If George and Ron do what I'm pretty sure they are going to do, I'm going to die. Or rant at them with the best rant of my life. It will be amazing.

I better start practicing it out!

But I should probably make my way back downstairs and face the music.

I decide that it was time to be an adult, and go downstairs and face my children. I wrench myself up of my bed, and crack open the door sneakily. Then I throw it open, and it hit the bloody wall!

Damn.

Then again, it's not a big deal. I mean, it's almost comparable to the second coming now. It's quarter after 12, and the kids will have to be told in fifteen minutes anyways so what's the big deal? Why am I so upset?

Oh, yeah. I was trying to avoid the whole thing completely.

And of course they'll come to me, because Harry's basically clueless. Apparently, I'm the one who wears the pants in this family.

Hmph.

I already gave away my position to the enemy, so I make no effort to be quiet whatsoever on my way downstairs. I basically tromp the entire journey.

When I take that final, dreaded step into the kitchen, I'm attacked. I nearly go down in a heap, but instead stay up and keep fighting.

James is looking at me, and his brown eyes, replicas of my own, are lit up with excitement.

"Dad says we're doing something special today!" He grins at me, and I'm very afraid.

"Er... did he?" Yes, that's my lame response. "What did he... er... tell you?"

"Nothing," James grinned, "other than that there is a plan! And Mum, you know how much I like plans!"

Dear Merlin.

"Oh, well." I don't think they have an appropriate reaction for this in my parenting book, so I'm going to stay with a safe blank look. "Your father will tell you in about fifteen minutes."

Al and Lily peek around the corner, their eyes shining. Apparently they are excited too. Just what I need. James is bad enough when he's excited, let alone when he coerces Al and Lily into hyperness too.

Actually, it's nice to see that they are so happy. Maybe they will take the news better than I thought.

"I can't wait fifteen minutes!" James cried indignantly. "I need to know now, Mum. It's a matter of life or death!"

The dramatics of a ten year old. At least I can deal with that.

"Well, you are going to have to." I say firmly, knowing that it is altogether likely that Harry or I will break before this point. "We are not telling you before the clock hits 12:30 exactly."

He looks at me with the puppy dog eyes. Damn. I have to turn away before I tell him...

Retreat!

I turn my head, and back slowly away into the living room, trying to get away from the adorableness that is my son. I wonder who his mother is.

I go into the living room, where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. Hmph. Good to know that he is so cavalier about this entire event.

Because I am a coward, and I make a mental note to question the Sorting Hat on why I'm a Gryffindor next time I make a visit to Hogwarts, I go and hide behind the chair. I hear the sound of pounding footsteps as they chase me into the living room. The dread hour is nigh. I check my watch quickly and there is exactly 9 minutes and 52 seconds to go.

"Dad," Al says in his sweetest, most angelic voice, "what are we doing today?"

"Er..." Harry blanches, looking around for me to reinforce him, but nope, not today sweetie!

I choose this moment to make my exit as I tiptoe by the confrontation by the couch. The timer beeps as I enter the kitchen. Brownies!

Thank Merlin that I heard it this time.

I walk over to the oven and put on some mitts. I quickly turn the dial on the oven to _off_ so that I can't be incriminated if the house burns down, and pull out the brownies. I almost fall over with the smell of their beautiful gooeyness. Bloody hell. It should be illegal for them to smell this good.

I zone out, high off the smell of the brownies. I think about random things, like when we're going to finish off the Star Wars trilogy, and when I'm going to die, and what George is going to do to me tonight...

BOOM!

What the hell just happened? I whirl, and see Albus standing by the cupboards, looking at me.

"Whoopsy," he grins at me.

"What were you trying to do?" I say in my quiet but deadly sort of manner. I think I can guess, but I seriously hope I'm wrong or there's going to have to be some supreme punishment dealt out.

"I was... um..." I'm waiting for him to come up with a story, and feel my hands take their natural place on my hips.

"What, in the name of all things holy, were you trying to do?"

"Well," he says in a voice so quiet that I can hardly hear him for he seems to know that this is not a bullshit moment, "I was trying to get that clear stuff you keep in the cupboard."

Damn. That's what I thought he'd say.

I just arch my eyebrow, telling him that I want to know more.

"I was trying to get that Verita - veriter?- serum. You know, to use on Dad."

"Why would you do that?" I surprise myself by not yelling. Hm, maybe those self-improvement books are finally paying off.

"That's what you always do to us, when you want to know something!"

Oh yeah. I always thought that that was a bit of a secret. Not that I actually spike it or anything, it's actually just water that has a charm to make the person want to tell the truth.

I take a quick mental count to ten.

"Al, I suggest you go get your brother and sister. I know that they are definitely not innocent in this shennanigan!" I'm close to yelling but I'll save that for all three of them.

"Crap!" A voice comes from the doorway to the living room. It's echoed by one from the bathroom.

Obviously James has been teaching his little sister his language.

"In here!" I call out like some kind of drill sergeant. James and Lily march into place beside their brother, heads hanging down. What a pitiful picture they make. Or they would, if James wasn't grinning, and Lily's eyes weren't twinkling with happiness about being included on one of the boys' "Master Plans".

"WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" I scream at them finally. I wonder if the neighbour thinks I'm abusive. Harry peeks his head around the corner to see what's going on. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN HURT TRYING TO GET THAT OUT OF THE TOP CUPBOARD, AND IT'S VERY, VERY IRRESPONSIBLE TO TRY TO FEED POTIONS THAT YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING WHATSOEVER ABOUT TO YOUR FATHER!"

Harry has gone very pale now, after the part about feeding the potions to their father, and I'm guessing by the expression on his face that he has no idea what just happened.

All the better for him. Though he'll probably just make me tell him later.

If there is a later.

"AND YOU, ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER, OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! THINKING UP THESE STUPID PLANS THAT WILL GET YOU ALL IN TROUBLE!"

"But Mummy," Lily whispered, with her most innocent face on, "that's what you do to us!"

Ugh. I knew that that would come to bite me. I should have just Obliviated them afterwards.

Lily has the best innocent face that I have ever seen. When James and Al actually include her in their plans, she always is the one that adds the element of innocence to the whole ploy. I mean, who would believe that Harry and Ginny's daughter was the one to get in trouble?

Internal snort.

James is definitely the action man in the group, for he really is not afraid to get in trouble, or to get other people in trouble. Al and Lily at least have a bit of a moral compass, whereas James will do anything for a prank. Stupid boys with no limits.

Al is the one who makes all the plans for the group. They are usually actually rather ingenious. Most of the time, which is the key part. He seems to have a bit of a Slytherin streak in him. I will not be surprised if he is in serious contention for Slytherin by the time he is eleven.

"DON'T YOU SEE HOW STRESSED OUT I AM THIS MORNING? HAVEN'T YOU SEEN HOW WORRIED I AM ABOUT THIS DAMN PARTY? DON'T YOU -" I break off when I see the gleeful look on James's face.

Crap!

I seriously shouldn't have said that.

"YES!" James yells in triumph, grinning widely at his siblings. "GOOD ROLE PLAYING LILS! WAY TO GO, AL! IT WORKED EXACTLY LIKE YOU SAID IT WOULD!"

Al's face is drained of all color, and James seems to notice this when he peers at his brother again.

"I think," Al whispers, "that I am going to hurl!"

And with, he runs from the kitchen to the bathroom that's attached to the living room.

He obviously gets his love of drama from his mother.

Lily is looking at her father, her eyes lit up.

"Dad, are we really, really, actually going this year?" Lily babbles, but she's looking at me, as if for some hidden signal. I guess she knows that I'm the one who will make or break the plan.

"Yes, " I sigh tiredly. Oh well, at least we have the news out of the way now. "They didn't give us time to get away this year. I'm sorry, guys."

I'm slightly intimidated by the expression on James' face. Why, oh why, were we stupid enough to raise another Marauder? It definitely wasn't a smart decision on our part.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Lily runs up to me and hugs me. "I didn't want to have to miss it again this year!"

"Yeah, Mum, thanks!" James smirks at me. "I mean, we didn't get to prank anyone these last two years. I guess we have to make up for it this year..."

Lily looks at him, and they do the whole silent eye communication thing.

"Now I guess it's time to pl- er, get Al out of the bathroom." James is so excited, that he looks like a freaking light. I knew this was going to happen.

Suddenly, a door slams and Al comes sprinting across the kitchen and thunders up the stairs.

"NO!" He cries, as soon as he gets to the top of the steps. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO! I WILL NOT GO BACK, NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO!"

He shouldn't have said that. James always loves a challenge.

"I'll go talk him into it," James offers but he's wearing his sadistic grin.

"We'll go talk to him, James. You and Lily can just wait for Teddy down here." Harry intervenes before it can get nasty. You never, ever, let James try to talk Al into something. It just doesn't work.

Ever.

Last time, we had to buy Al a new bed. It was so bad, that it was actually beyond magical repair. And this was your normal, average, Muggle bed! It were literally destroyed. We still haven't figured out what they did, but apparently one of them has really destructive magic!

I pity those teachers at Hogwarts.

I survey the damage that they can do in the kitchen, and figure that I might as well leave them to it. Harry and I walk up the stairs together, and I wish that he would just let Albus and I stay home. Can't he tell that Albus is terrified?

Let alone me.

Harry doesn't even bother knocking on the door, just goes right in. Thank Merlin that Albus hasn't figured out how to lock it with accidental magic yet. That would be bad, we'd never be able to get in, and he'd be trapped in there for years! Which actually would be really smart of him today.

Anyways.

He's lying on his bed, curled into the fetal position, and I can't help but feel bad for my son. Poor kid. I'm assuming because of his reaction that he does remember the events of the last party. It's always a great fun to be the test subject of George's for the night. They always pick one person, and it basically sucks if it's you. Or your kid. If it's anyone else, it's great fun!

But if it's your son, you don't enjoy it all, for you have to console said child every night for weeks when they constantly wake up from nightmares of becoming a rat. And now whenever he sees something that looks like a rat, he has a panic attack. Not that I blame him. Our son is permanently scarred.

As am I. But we'll get into that later. I'll just say that George had two experiments that night, and they both worked spectacularly. At least in the freaking Ginny out category.

Then again, he's always excelled in that area.

"Mum," he cries out, looking up at me. His green eyes are glittering with unshed tears. "Don't make me go!"

My heart breaks into these little crumbly pieces.

"Al, you have to face your fear sometime. It was just a joke, and you and James and Lily can prank Uncle George all you want tonight if you will just come." Harry is actually attempting to bribe our son. I'm so proud that he's picked up my dastardly ways.

"NO!" Albus looks bloody furious. I really, really don't blame him. I mean, we were victims together last time so we have to support each other. "I don't want to! What if they choose me again, Dad, what if?"

"We'll bring you right home," Harry promises. Ha. That's what he said last time.

"I don't care! I don't want to go!"

"Please, for me?"

"NO!"

So far, it's a fairly typical Potter family argument. Minus my input.

"Well, what if your mum takes your spot if you're chosen tonight?"

Um, pardon?

"What," I say as coldly as possible, "in the blazes are you talking about Harry? This whole thing is your idea! You take his place."

"Well, you _are_ a Gryffindor, Ginny, and that means that you have to show courage. And courage is all about doing things even if you _are _scared of them."

Damn. Now if I don't do this, he has the perfect reason and excuse to call me a Hufflepuff.

Not that there's anything wrong with Hufflepuffs. I'm just from a Gryffindor family.

"I'll go if Mum promises!" Al exclaimed, obviously thinking that my pain will make for a good evening. And trapping me into the deal forever and ever more.

"Fine!" I snarl, and march out of the room, down to the kitchen again.

I know that I'm going to regret this.

A/N

I was feeling very generous today, and plus I'm going to have no time whatsoever to update until next week so here it is. Reviews would be much appreciated!


	5. Being A Potter

It's now 12:30, and I send James and Lily on a packing mission. They don't really seem to get why they have to pack, but understand that Mum will freak if they don't. So very true.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, going through a mental checklist, when Teddy comes through the fireplace.

"Hi, Teddy," I smile at him as he smirks at me in greeting. Teddy also seems to know that I really hate these parties. Is it that obvious?

"So, Aunt Ginny, why aren't we halfway to Jamaica already? Is our plane leaving late?"

"No. Your idiotic godfather wouldn't let me take you guys and run this year."

"And my idiotic wife is the one who's so stubbornly afraid of these parties." I whirl, and there's Harry standing at the bottom of the stairs. Teddy laughs so hard that I'm honestly scared that he will break a rib.

"How's my favourite 17-year-old godson today?" Harry asks as he walks over. He eases into a chair at the counter, then reaches over and ruffles Teddy's hair. Teddy glares at him, but there is no true annoyance behind it. I can tell that he actually enjoys it.

Aw.

"Stop it, old man," Teddy smirks up at his godfather. "So, where's the brats?"

"Upstairs packing, just like their mum ordered." Harry says, accentuating it with a roll of his eyes.

"Packing? What the hell are they packing for?" Teddy is honestly confused by this as he looks at me.

"The party," I say delicately, and Teddy snorts and changes his hair from bright blue to his traditional Weasley party red.

"Bullshit," he laughs. "I bet you've secretly got them packing for a last-minute vacation to wherever the hell you decided to go this time."

"Language!" I say as scandalized as a person can be when they've got my subconscious to deal with. "And no, I'm actually being forced to go."

"Good, 'cause rumour has it that if you guys are another no-show, Uncle George is actually planning to call in the Mafia!"

"MAFIA! Teddy, will the Mafia be there tonight?" James comes bounding down the stairs. James has a lot of hero worship issues when Teddy is involved, so he is constantly listening for Teddy's voice in the house. Should have remembered that he has really good hearing. And has a major love for any sort of crime ring.

We really should have tried to instill some values in that kid when he was little.

"Maybe," Teddy said jokingly, "if we're really lucky."

Sigh. Him too.

Then again, Teddy has never understood why I hate these parties so much, but that's because he's in love with Victoire. It's so cute!

I really am my mother.

Quarter to one.

Almost time now. But we're sure as hell not going early. I might even arrange it so that we're slightly late. Or maybe not, because believe it or not, I actually don't want to be hunted down by the Mafia.

Lily and Al come downstairs together, Lily on her tippy toes as they walk so that she can whisper in his ear. I'm thinking that there is a very good chance that my daughter got my height. Hm... I wonder what they're plotting. Should I stop them?

No, whoever it is probably deserves whats coming to them.

"TEDDY!" Lily screams when she sees him. "Are you coming to the party too?"

Teddy scoops her up into a big hug when she runs toward him.

"Of course I am," he stage-whispered, "gotta help gate-crash!"

"You weren't invited?" Lily whispers, her eyes round.

"Nope, but I'm going to come along anyways, because that's what Lupins do!"

"Oh." She turns to me, and says "Mum, can I be a Lupin?"

"If you want to be." Go ahead, honey, as long as your dad allows it. I don't care. If I were a Lupin, I wouldn't be going!

"But being a Potter is way cooler!" Al says, looking at his litttle sister disgustedly. "At least, that's what Teddy's always said."

Harry gives Teddy the you-better-agree look, and Teddy just smirks. Because of the whole adoptive big brother thing, he's always been able to rile the kids up like this. I remember when he got James and Albus to stage a protest about the colour of cheese. Those were back in the days when they actually believed what people told them.

Technically, they still believe Teddy.

"Yeah, Potter is definitely way cooler." He almost sounds convincing, but not quite. James just looks at him with the eyebrow thing that all my bloody kids can do, including Teddy.

How unfair is that?

"But Lupin means wolf! That's so much cooler than being like someone who puts plants in pots!" James says in response to Teddy's declaration of Potter coolness.

"Or makes pots! Pots are _so_ boring!" Lily whined to Teddy, accentuating in a way that only little girls can.

"Well..." Teddy's looking at me in a sort of helpless way. I really don't have anything to tell him, partially because I agree. "We can't all be cool like wolves, so you guys just have to accept your role as Potters."

"Does that mean we have to be potters when we grow up?" Lily asked him curiously, and Harry and I burst out laughing.

"Well, you don't have to be a Potter, but James and Al do..." Teddy looks so confused as to where this conversation has gone. I'm sure as hell not going to help him, this is the most I've laughed all day!

"So James and Al have to be potters? They don't even get a choice?"

"Well... er..."

DING DONG!

Merlin!

Teddy, Harry and I turn to face the clock simultaneously.

"Shouldn't we be there by now?" Teddy laughs, but I can feel him looking at me suspiciously. He really doesn't trust me when it comes to this, does he?

"We're going to leave now," Harry says, calm as ever.

"Teddy, you can go first."

"Ok," he agrees, but I pull him aside right as he's about to enter the fireplace.

"I'm coming last with Al, but make sure that nothing happens to the others before I get there, ok?"

He nods in acknowledgement, side-steps around me, and goes through the floo.

Good luck, godson. I'll see you on the other side.

James steps forward eagerly, and I watch as he floos. The grin on his face is so excited, that I almost want to feel excited with him.

"Harry," I whisper-nod at him, and he quickly kisses me on the cheek and steps into the fireplace, disappearing in a cloud of green ashes.

Lily smiles as she floos right behind her father. My little girl.

"Mum," Al whispers to me as I knew he would, "can we just skip it? Please?"

I sigh and consider what would happen if we did. All I can see is a grim picture of travelling from place to place, hiding from the family and the Mafia at the same time. I don't think we could manage that.

So I am forced to turn to my son, look him right in emerald green eyes, and say, "No Al, I don't think we can this time."

I gently guide him into the fireplace, and the last thing I see before I'm left alone is the betrayed look on his face.

I look around our house, at our messy kitchen, and see... the brownies!

I grab the tray, and step into the fireplace, knowing that it is definitely now or never.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I cautiously step out of the fireplace, and it's like a whole new world.

"Wand." Dad says, all professionally. Damn. I was hoping they would forget this year. I quickly step around him, leaving him to guard the floo. He always makes us give him our wands, because otherwise bad things happen. Bad, bad things. Sometimes George can think of a way around it though, but only for him. Stupid brother won't share with the rest of us.

I gaze around in shock for about a second, and feel my jaw drop open. Merlin!

WHAM!

Ow. I look down to see my nephew, Hugo, lying at my feet. What the hell is he doing down there? Oh yeah, he just ran into me, nearly knocked me over, and spilled his milk all over me. Great.

"Sorry, Auntie!" He cries as he jumps to his feet, picks up his cup, and runs out of the living room. I stare down defeatedly at my outfit. What do you know, only about ten seconds here and there's been a disaster!

Then again, no use crying over spilt milk. At least that's what my positivity side is trying to tell me, while the pessimistic one is telling me to run for my life.

Guess what side I want to listen to?

"Hello Ginny, how are you?" Audrey asks me from the corner chair where she is curled up with a book. I just stare at her. As usual, she looks all prim and proper, hair pulled up into a bun. How is that even possible, with two kids?

"Audrey, why the hell are you in the corner?"

"Waiting," she says patiently.

"For what?"

"Time to go home."

Oh yeah. I'd kind of forgotten that Audrey was one of the few that didn't enjoy the chaos of this party. I almost ask her if I can join her then I remember.

IT'S AUDREY!

Joining her would be the ultimate show of weakness. I can not be weak. I can't give them a chance to close in on me, and a corner would be a perfect opportunity for that.

I back away before she can offer me sanctuary. As I back out of the room, I think that I can see a look of pity on her face. Merlin.

I stumble through the hallway, and into the kitchen. Mum's standing there, a look of utter fury on her face. I quickly set down the tray of brownies on the counter, and put my hands up in front of my face in the universal sign on surrender.

_"Where,"_ she says, and I can tell that she is pissed, "are Fred and James?"

"What did they do?" I asked curiously. James has only been here for about 10 minutes, what could he have done during that time?

Don't answer that question.

"_Your _son decided that it would be a good idea to blow up the hot dogs. I'm not sure what he's ever had a grudge against them for. Last time he was over, he ate about four of them."

With what? What did George give them that would actually blow stuff up?

Crap. Now we have nothing to eat.

I vocalize this thought.

"We still have the hamburgers left, but Ginny, it's the principle of the thing. What ever happened during the time when you should have been teaching him some rules of etiquette?"

Mum actually forced us to give them etiquette lessons. Sigh.

I wish I had that kind of control over my children.

Well, if you want to know the truth, we played some chess and discussed the strategy involved in rule breaking. And how you get into Grandma's kitchen without being noticed. Wow. I actually was the one who told him some secrets to his success at the party.

There's no way in hell that I'm going to tell Mum that, though.

"Er, we were teaching him his... manners! Yeah, his manners!" Stupid, stupid, stupid. Isn't etiquette and manners the same thing?

Apparently that was a rhetorical question for she doesn't even acknowledge my answer as she continues to viciously wash dishes.

Why is she washing dishes anyways? Doesn't she remember that little thing called magic? Then again, it is Molly Weasley and for some reason washing dishes has always helped her to abate her anger. But she'd need a hell of a lot more help if she ever wanted to be normal.

What does that say about us?

I sneak out of the kitchen to the backyard before she can yell at me. Why is his lack of self-control always my fault, not Harry's? So idiotic.

George, Angelina, and Charlie are lounging on the picnic table, talking about random things like Quidditch. Apparently I made a sound when I came through, for they all look up at me. Conversation stops in its tracks.

"Hey Gin," Charlie tries to ease me into the conversation but there is a devilish glint in his eyes that I don't trust. There's a reason he's a bachelor, you know.

Angelina looks at me and catches my eye. She shakes her head the slightest bit, and I can see the warning in her eyes. A chill goes up my spine. Very ominous. What does George have planned for me that even his own wife is trying to give me a way out? Nothing could be worse than last time.

Nothing.

"So, I was thinking that we should have a bit of a story later, like always." He speaks like he's talking to an idiot, drawing out all the words. "How does that sound, Ginny?"

Is he suggesting what I think he's suggesting?

"I even have a special book picked out for you to read and everything."

And he brandishes it like you would a sword. _All There is To Know About Harry Potter._

Damn.


	6. I Hate Fake Love

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. So sad.

I knew that this would happen. Merlin. I wish that I had never had a crush on him as a kid, it has definitely come back to bite me. I don't think that any of them will ever let me bloody forget about it!

"There is no way in hell I will read that, George Weasley!" I hiss in fury. I would bet some good money on there being something in there on how Ginevra Weasley had a crush on him when she was 11, and then she married him years later. Likely something about love potions that were used on him by me too.

I'd like to state for the record that I never used anything of the sort. Considered, but never, ever used.

I hate fake love.

Charlie is laughing harder than I can remember him laughing since that time that he got Percy pissed out of his gourd when Percy was 13. Merlin, Percy's a funny drunk, but he never drinks all because of what Charlie did to him all those years ago. Sigh. What wasted humour.

I glare at them, and stalk away. They are not going to make me do this. No way. Not a chance. And at least I have a long time to find another book, and to figure a way out of it.

Great. Yet another problem that has arisen.

Just another complication in my already complicated existence.

I wonder where Albus is.

Should I go and make an attempt to save him? Now that the hot dogs are gone, I'm sure that James and Fred have turned their attentions to him, and that means that he is now a victim.

And what about Lily?

Poor, poor little girl. I still can't understand why she is so excited. Then again, she probably doesn't have clear memories of the last one. She was only five. Maybe I should let her be tortured for a while again, see if she remembers it this time.

No, Ginny. Remember your promise to be a good parent?

Besides, leaving her at the mercy of her cousins is just inhumane. In this case, it could be called child abuse!

Especially Dominique. There's something strange about that girl. And it isn't that she's just about to hit the hormonal stage of life.

It's likely the whole Fleur-is-her-mother thing. That's where they got the whole beautiful and knowing it look from. Sigh. I'm sorry Lils, that I didn't have that gene to pass on to you.

"LET ME GO!" I hear Al scream from the pitch. "LET ME GO JAMES! OR I'M GOING TO TELL MUM!"

"Don't be such a tattle tale, squirt. Think of this as... conditioning. Plus, Mum could never punish us for this without taking away her own credibility."

Sweet Merlin, my son is smart. Too smart.

"OH YEAH? THEN I'LL TELL GRANDMA! WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT, JAMES?"

A pause.

"Let go of him, Fred."

"Aw, James! We can't just let him go!"

"Do you want Grandma to yell at you?"

No answer at all. I'm sure that there is horror written all over Freddie's face. Mum can sure scare the hell out of everyone in this entire family. I don't blame them for being scared.

"I didn't think so. Let the squirt go, and we'll just go and capture Louis."

"True. He'd probably prefer us to the girls anways."

"Exactly."

And that, folks, is how I learnt that there is a hell of a lot more that goes on when I'm watching than I ever thought.

Who knew that I would eavesdrop on such a scene when I just randomly decide to stalk away from my battles rather than confront them? Good idea, self!

Now I just have to come to terms with the fact that my sons don't fear me.

And then, maybe, life will be grand.

--------------------------------------------

I decide that yes, i should go and track down Lily. And then possibly go and help Mum in the kitchen so that George can't find me.

I have a funny feeling that he is going to be blocking off the kitchen though. It's going to be difficult to track down Lily in the first place.

Oh dear.

Difficult is definitely not even the word to describe it.

If I do find her, and she is being held captive, what will I do? Will I defend my daughter? Will I laugh really hard? Or do I just leave her as she is, to fend for herself? It is a pickle that I'm in today.

But, because I am a fairly loyal person, I decide that yes, it is in the moral code of parents to help their kids out. Even if it would actually benefit them if they were just left alone in the long run. I'm sorry, Lily, that you will never grow to be a strong person, because your mum will always rescue you.

Obviously my mother never helped me. Then again, that's only because she never caught them.

Quick tip: if you have older brothers, tell on them at any time possible.

I sneak towards the house. I consider crawling, but I don't want to look really stupid. I'm sure that George would somehow find a way to get a picture of me. And then would probably put it in the _Daily Prophet_ for my fiftieth birthday or something. Which would likely cause me to become a hermit and spend the rest of my life alone, and then Harry would divorce me. Sad that one picture has the ability to send such a wave of terror through our family.

When I get close enough to check out whose guarding the house, I see that Charlie's stationed by the front door. I can take him. Or maybe not. He doesn't have a wife to tell on about my problems with him. Scratch that plan.

But there's no way I'm taking George. So this may be my only chance.

"CHARGE!" I yell and run at Charlie. He just stares at me, as I crash into him and tackle him to the ground.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He shouts, as I get back up and run into the house. He's asking _me _that? I fly up the stairs and pause outside the door of the room that I'm pretty sure they are in.

You can tell by the moans of pain, you know.

"Lily, can't you just suck it up and put it on?" Dominique says huffily, and I can sense her frustration with my daughter. Merlin knows I've felt it a time or two.

"No! Why can't one of you guys just wear it?" Ah, the joys of seven-year-old logic.

"Well, Dom, Molly, and I are way too big to wear that, Lily. And Roxane might be able to squeeze into it,but it wouldn't look very good." But Rose always beats her out, with that practical Hermione-like reasoning.

"What about Lucy?" Lily says petulantly.

"Too little. Haven't you seen the kid?"

"But I don't wanna!"

"Tough luck." Molly's voice for the first time. Good to know that my other niece wanted to take her turn in torturing.

"NO!"

"NOW!" I hear Dominique shriek, and I can just imagine her tossing her blonde hair as she, and Rose apparently jump on Lily.

"COME ON, ROXY! WE NEED SOME REINFORCEMENT!"

I hear Roxy's typical George giggle, and I hear as she steps into the attack. I would classify it as an attack, as all the older cousins are basically forcing Lily into some kind of clothing and she is definitely resisting.

Sigh.

What can a mother do?

I step away from the door, and begin to go back downstairs in my shame.

I'm sorry Lils, that your mother has no idea how the hell she could ever manage to save you. Your cousins are definitely more than I can handle. Maybe at the end of this party, we can take all the other Weasleys on. Especially if we can recruit your dad.

Hey, where is Harry now? I think I need him for comfort.

I can see his reaction in my mind.

"Honey, I need comfort! I can't save Lily!"

"What happened to her?"

"Her cousins kidnapped her!" Cue sobbing.

And I can definitely see his look of pure disgust. Then his look of pity. Then the declaration of his intent to divorce me and go hook up with the scarlet woman Romilda Vane whose been after him since he was 16.

At least I'll get the kids that way.

Oh yeah. They're hard to deal with when there is two parents, let alone one. I think if I let that happen, I'd be roasting over a fire and they'd be dancing around me in some kind of tribunal sacrifice. It would be James' idea, Albus' plan, and Lily's innocence to be used to get me caught, and it wouldn't even take much effort. I've actually seen them do this, too. One time, we were looking after Louis for the weekend, and I went into the living room where the kids had been watching Tarzan and well... Let's just say that they haven't watched Tarzan since, and that Louis has developed a healthy fear of Disney movies.

No, I suppose that Harry and I'll just have to stay together then. I know that I don't really have any desire for that kind of traumatization, and I know he's already been a sacrifice. Replay, no thank you.

Hmph. I didn't enjoy when he died the first time. Which is basically the understatement of the decade.

I thought that a part of me had died with him, which I know is really cheesy but so true. It was like I had lost the only future I had wanted, and at the time thought I could ever want. Somehow, it just felt like the world had descended into chaos, and not just around me. Inside me, too.

There's your first look into my post-Harry's-death moment. Probably won't be the last, for apparently I seem to enjoy thinking about all those juicy painful things. What joy I have in my life.

"Ginny?" I hear a voice call my name. I whirl, and there's Hermione standing at the bottom of the stairs. Hey, fancy seeing her here.

"What?" I snap at her, and she just rolls her eyes. Kids have obviously helped her in that patience area, as you can tell.

Ha.

Hermione, patient? There's no such thing. Then again, maybe that's why she's so compatible with Ron. Neither of them have a stitch of bloody patience in them. Then again, who am I to talk?

George probably outclasses me in that area!

"Molly wants you to come help her with some discipline." Hermione says tiredly, and pushes her bushy hair out of her face. "Apparently, they caught Fred and James when they were 'bullying' Louis, and Fleur's having a bit of a-"

"Freaker." Ron says, appearing behind Hermione at the bottom of the stairs. He climbs up to her, and puts his arm around her waist. How sickeningly cute. Excuse me while I go barf in the bush. "Not like they don't do it every time they're here together, but... Hey! Don't hit me!"

"You deserve it," Hermione says flatly, and daintily wipes off her fist. There is something weird about that girl, and I don't mean her brain. "We don't have to tell Fleur about her nephews' activities regarding her son, I thought I'd told you that already, Ronald!"

"Oh. Yeah, that does kind of ring a bell." Ron scrunches his face up and he looks like he's thinking really hard. Either that or is constipated. Take your pick. Neither of them happen often, I hope, so this must be a truly momentuous occasion.

I just look at them.

"The point of this is...?"

"Go talk to your mother," Hermione orders, and I step around her on the stairs, as she continues to berate Ron. Enjoy, folks.

I'm not sticking around just to watch them argue, then have a make-up snog. Usually it'd be a shag, but since we're here, they'll have to wait until they get home. Thank Merlin.

There are some things that a sister should never have to witness, and that is one of them.

I shudder as I walk down the stairs. That train of thought definitely brings back bad, bad memories. I have to stop thinking about this. Lalalalalalalala....

With this mental frame of mind, I walk into the kitchen. Fred and James are sitting on chairs, backs straight, while Mum rants, pointing her finger at them. Louis looks smug, but kind of terrified at the same time. He should be. They are going to go for him now. Al must be... well, maybe he can be happy for a bit.

Odd that my kid most upset about coming could possibly be happy in the next few hours.

Maybe Harry will be in pain soon, and it'll my turn to altruistically cheerful.

Hehe.

Mean of me to think, eh?

Fleur is talking to Louis rapidly in French, the look of anger on her face growing, even though he's not saying a word. He just shakes his head at her in his smugly terrified way. I seriously hope that no one ever yells at me in French. It must be scary. Thank Merlin that I'm a hell of a lot smarter than Bill and married an Englishman. Then again, Harry's the most scary person that I've ever seen mad. His eyes glow all green, and his face goes white, and he runs his hand through his hair, and it makes it so I can't even retaliate. All I can do is think about how bloody hot he is. Sigh.

So, he basically wins. Every bloody time!

Someday, I hope to change that. Possibly by our fiftieth anniversary.

Though, even that's aiming high.

A/N

Please review!


	7. Threats and Fish Eggs

Disclaimer:

Not mine, never will be! Except for, you know, the plot.

"WHY DO YOU HAVE TO PICK ON SOMEONE EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU ARE TOGETHER?" Mum yells furiously. "DID YOUR PARENTS RAISE YOU TO TREAT OTHERS LIKE THAT?"

Fred and James exchange glances that say "Um, yes."

Please don't hurt me, Mum!

"IF YOU THINK YOUR FATHERS WON'T HEAR ABOUT THIS, YOU ARE VERY MUCH MISTAKEN!" Fleur takes over where Mum left off. This triple approach thing is kind of weird. "PICKING ON MY LOUIS!"

Gag me.

Um, why did Bill have to fall in love with her? It made it so that all their kids are bloody gorgeous. Though mine are pretty damn adorable too! But seriously, how do you compete with Veela blood? And that French accent?

Whoops. Got distracted again.

Of course, I really have no choice to do anything other than nod along. If I defended the kids, it wouldn't be taken well. And if I yelled, I'd be seen as hypocritical.

"YOU ARE GROUNDED FOR A WEEK ONCE THIS PARTY IS OVER, FREDERICK ARTHUR WEASLEY!" Angelina yells at him, tossing her black hair.

"Um, you too, James Sirius Potter," I mutter quickly, just so that I look all good parentish.

The other three continue the rant, but basically without my input. Just the way I like it. If I was the one saying all of this, it would just be horribly hypocritical. And I can't be such a bad example. I just have to agree with whatever punishment that Angelina sentences Fred to, and then just say "That goes for you too, James".

Lovely.

-----------------------------

After this session of Mum, Angelina, and Phlegm, I mean Fleur, yelling at the boys while I nod along, I make my way outside with James feeling fearful.

Then again, what could be so bad? Angelina just said that we were playing some Quidditch for the hell of it, and nothing else. But...

She was wearing that terrifying ominous face again. Never a good sign.

So, I reckon that I'm fairly safe in the assumption that this will be no ordinary game of Quidditch. Oh, no. There is something far more interesting here at stake.

I could guess at what it is, but I'm going to feign ignorance. At least then I can act all surprised and upset. And definitely say no way in hell to doing it.

If they knew that I knew it was coming,well, that'd be the end of that idea.

George would just say, "Hey, you chose to play and that means you accepted the consequences."

Screw consequences. What happened to playing a quick game of Quidditch here or there? Nothing's that easy in the Weasley family.

"Hey Gin," Bill says easily as I walk over to where he's lounging on the table, while keeping a careful eye on Victoire and Teddy.

WAIT!

Victoire and Teddy?

How did I miss them getting together? I mean, they've obviously liked each other for ages, but last I knew they were in full-on denial. How could I have missed this milestone in their lives?

"Hi Bill," I say, weary from all these thoughts.

"What happened in there?" He mutters, looking around surreptitiously, just in case that one of _them_ was near. For all I know though, Dad has finally gotten around to putting those mini-camera things that Angelina stupidly gave him last Christmas, and Mum rigged the place.

Anything's possible.

"Ph-er-Fleur will tell you later. Maybe." I ramble on, nerves getting to me. "I mean, she probably doesn't want to admit that you raised such a pansy of a son that his older cousins pick on him or whatever."

"I see," Bill says, arching an eyebrow. "Does that make you and Ron pansies, Gin, seeing as the two of you were picked on more than Louis has ever been?"

I blush tomato red. Damn me for being from such a large family that they all have blackmail of some kind against me?

"Like that one time," he continues, "when you were seven and had a HUGE crush on Harry, and the twins used their "accidental magic" that they could somehow control to make your posters of him on your wall declare their love for-"

"Shut it!"

"I'm going to have to ask George sometime how they managed to make things happen so well. It always worked out so damn perfect!"

"Yeah," I say as sarcastically as possible. "Just peachy."

Bill just laughs at me, winds a piece of grass around his finger, and sucks on it. Another one of those Weasley quirks that we all do, and so do our children. I'll admit that even I do this one. Grass is so yummy!

There is something seriously wrong with me.

"So," I say, conversationally as possible, "how come you are just watching your daughter holding hands and flirt with a boy? Those things that you have claimed to hate whenever it comes to your daughters for years?"

He looks at me with gritted teeth.

"Because," he says delicately. "S_he _threatened to divorce me if I tried anything."

I'm taking she to mean Fleur. I smirk.

"I should have thrown you into the pond when you were a kid, it would have done everyone a service." Bill mumbles, and I start to look offended. I mean, he's jumping to conclusions for it's obvious that he thinks that I just brought up this topic just to piss him off. Of course I did, but innocent until proven guilty, right?

"Don't tell her I told you, though." He quickly tells me, and I grin. But it fades when he starts talking again. "If you do, I'll have to tell Harry about that time when you were eight and were skating with Fred, George, and Ron on the pond at Christmas time, and you came running into the house still wearing your skates-"

"Stop!" I shriek in annoyance. It does no good.

"And told Mum that you didn't feel so well. When she asked why, you told her it was because Fred and George caught a fish and skinned it, then made you eat the inside eggs. Told you it was caviar or some Muggle thing."

"No..." I moan, but what can you do?

"And then you lived in the loo for the next week," Bill said, chortling as I glare at him. Damn him. When he was a young, stupid kid, I probably wasn't even alive! How fair is that? "Merlin, no one else could even go near it without passing out!"

I give him a very pissed off glare, and he stares back, unblinkingly, at me. Hm. Weasley males used to always fall to Weasley females and their glares. What happened?

"If you think this is bad," he whispered to me, "just wait for what George has in store for you."

And with that reassuring statement, he walked over to where Charlie was standing, whistling.

I'm thinking that I definitely should have ran away from home, and joined the circus or something. Sticking around was not the brightest moment of my childhood. The moment I realized that I was way outnumbered, I should have done a runner. Ah, the regrets.

A/N

Sorry for the wait! Review, review, review!


	8. Team Planning, and ADD

Disclaimer:

Nothing is mine, except the plot!

I decide to continue on my way to the pitch. Everybody knows that you can't skip it. If you do, well then, they hunt you down. Which is actually a lot scarier than it sounds.

Just trust me on that. Please don't try to find out.

As a rule, everyone has to be present for the picking even if they won't be playing or they don't even care about the game at all. You just have to be there, because otherwise you aren't a Weasley.

Though, sometimes this sounds like a nice idea to me.

Okay, a lot of the time.

We have to pick teams, just like always. There is a rule of the Weasley Code involved, which is Always include the kids. Every kid has to be picked for a team, just to make it fair. Except Molly and Lucy, because they never want to play. Oh, and Hugo because Hermione's still being a bore when it comes to letting him play. George is in the process of writing down all the grown ups' names, so that we can get captains.

Lo and behold, his and my names are picked.

Joy.

"Gin and I are the captains for this year," George announces jubilantly over the microphone. "This year I think, that to add a bit of interest, we should have a bet."

"No way," I mutter to him, "in hell."

"Oh, look at this! The great and formidable Ginevra Potter doesn't want to make a bit of a wager with her own brother!" He shouts to the general crowd, and they boo. "I guess that she's too scared of losing to me!"

Well, damn. Either I take it and lose like he knows I will, or I don't and everyone makes fun of me for years.

"Fine!" I snap at him, "at least tell me the terms first!"

"I win, and you have to be the testee," George smiles.

"And if I win?"

"Then we pull someone else's name, and you don't have to read."

"Deal."

We spit on our hands and shook. I know, Weasley family handshake. Don't ask.

I see Harry looking at me over the crowd, and I want him to protect me. Please honey?

He looks away. At least this way I'll get the joy of kicking him to sofa, and having the kids ask me why mummies do that again. That's always an enjoyable conversation.

"Teddy," I say tiredly.

"Fred."

"James."

"Al."

Crap. I wanted him.

"Rose."

"Dominique."

"Lily."

"Roxane."

"Louis."

"Victoire."

Hehe, he had to pick Victoire. She may be stunning, but she is the worst Weasley Quidditch player I have ever seen.

"Harry."

"Charlie."

So predictable.

"Good."

"So," he smirks at me, "gather your teams!"

Teddy, James, Rose, Louis, Lily, and Harry gather around me. Time to talk strategy.

"What," Teddy says, staring at Lily, "the hell are you doing in a dress?"

"Language," I snap, and turn to look at my daughter. "But seconded. Lily, why?"

"They attacked me," Lily says, glaring viciously at Rose. Oh. Right. Forgot about that. Maybe I should have tried to save her.

"Okay, moving on!" I say, trying to rally my team. "We're talking strategy now."

They lean in eagerly, knowing that whatever team I'm on always has some weird messed up strategy.

"Here's the plan," I whisper, pulling them into a huddle. Harry's watching me, probably looking for some sign of insanity. Merlin knows that there is many.

"We win."

"That's it?" James looks at me, disbelieving. I just close my eyes.

"And if we don't, you are all grounded. Forever."

Being a mum can be great fun sometimes!

"But you aren't my mother!" Louis stares at me, obviously wondering what the hell his grandma did to me to produce such a demented child. He really doesn't want to know.

"Do you think I give a damn?" Whoops. Swearing in front of the nephew. Ah well, not like I can take it back now.

I see Teddy glance at Harry, who gives a quick shake of his head.

"And if you don't catch the snitch, you are on the couch until we win the match at the next Weasley party!" I snap at my husband. "And don't even think of filing for divorce on the grounds of me not putting out!"

Louis's eyes are huge.

Damn.

Fleur very well might murder me when he starts asking about what his Tante Ginny meant when she said putting out.

"Putting out... er... the candles! I won't put out the candles, Harry!"

Teddy is grinning at me, and infuriatingly says "I thought you hated candles, Ginny."

"I do, that's why I'm not going to put them out. And respect your elders."

"I apologize, almost-godmother-dearest."

I don't even answer that. I have bigger problems.

Dad's standing in the middle of the pitch, waiting for us to come line up. I quickly glance over at George's team, and see that they are waiting for us to make a move. I'm the brave one in this family, so I lead my team over to the center of the pitch.

The other team joins us, and George and I shake hands again. Of course we shake hands like we mean it, for there's no one in this entire family who would purposely lose a Quidditch game.

I look over at Al, who is in the clutches of the enemy. Hopefully they didn't hurt him, for it's me they apparently really want. I'm about to blow him a kiss, when something stops me.

There's a very unnecessary evil glint in his eyes. His eyes so very much like his fathers... Have I mentioned recently that they are both very good looking?

Mental swoon.

Wow, I distract myself sometimes. Is that attention deficit disorder or is that something worse than ADD? Some kind of internal distraction system?

Dad whistles and throws up the Quaffle in my moment of distraction. Of course. Why, oh why, doesn't he believe in treating the only girl special anymore?

Actually, I know why. Apparently grandkids are a little more special. And there is now loads of girls in the family. I no longer have a special rank. Sigh.

But, no more deep thoughts. I have a very, very important game to play!

AN

Thanks to everyone that's been reviewing! I majorly appreciate you, you guys are definitely my heroes!

What do you think of this chapter?


	9. Worldly Weave

Disclaimer:

It's not mine. If you think it is, you should really be reading the series and not this story.

Of course, we put Harry in as Seeker, and I take command as Chaser. Lily and James are Chasers with me, Rose is Keeper, and Teddy and Louis are Beaters. We are going to dominate!

In a normal-ish game, they would have Al playing Seeker on the other team but it is the Weasley Family Party. Therefore Charlie, who is the only failure of my mother's life, is playing Seeker for this party.

I have to say that Harry looks much better on a broom than Charlie.

Enough said.

Back to the game!

Al grabs the Quaffle, and tosses it to his fellow Chaser Dominique, who just doesn't even bother with her sister. Victoire's already close to falling off her broom already, and Fleur looks worried. Ah well, sometimes Phlegm needs to be taken down a peg.

Fred is playing Beater with his dad, and Roxane is the Keeper. I have to say, that Fred is actually a pretty good Beater. Which kind of sucks, because it's really hard for all of us to say "Fred and George" still.

Wish you were here, bro.

Dominique is going all the way to the goal, and Rose is forced to hit the Quaffle away with her head to stop the goal. Of course Ron goes crazy.

"THAT'S MY GIRL! GO ROSIE!"

Then, the inevitable question.

"HERMIONE, LOOK AT THIS TALENT! HUGO WOULD BE GREAT IF YOU WOULD JUST LET HIM BLOODY PLAY!"

And I can't hear Hermione's reply, though I can imagine it's not very dignified, because we finally get the Quaffle. Thank Merlin. Lily passes to James, and I stay in position for our play that we'd been practicing the other day. I see Al above us, and the horror dawns on his face. He knows what we're going to do.

"STOP THEM!"

Suckers. They won't know what hit them.

Go Worldly Weave!

Too bad that we aren't Weasleys, the alliteration would be so much better.

We begin to weave in and out of one another, constantly passing the ball from one to the other. My seven-year-old daughter is insanely good at this. It must be the Ginny genes.

Or, well, Harry's.

We weave even closer to the posts, as the other players move out of our way with awe. At the last second, I pass to Lily and she shoots it in past Roxane.

GOAL!

"YOU HAVE TO WATCH OUT FOR THE FAKE!" George yells at his daughter, and I see her roll her eyes. Lovely little girl isn't she? Pure Weasley attitude right there.

And heaven knows there are never enough Weasleys.

Sadly, I didn't really add to the numbers. My kids are fortunate enough to be blessed with the last name of Potter.

Lucky them, to be Potters. Potters get free stuff! Well, so do the Weasleys these days, but that's only thanks to Harry. We Weasleys have it so much better nowadays. Thanks honey, for being what makes sure all our nieces and nephews get fed.

Oh, and it's through his contribution that my parents can even afford to have this party at all...

Damn it!

I just made myself mad all over again!

The game continues, as we gain more and more points with our awesome play. I am such a genius! George is getting madder than a hatter, though their team seems to be scoring an awful lot too. Typical men, getting all competitive.

WHOA! They're twenty points away from us! NOOO!

Harry has to catch the snitch, and now. When Lily and James get the Quaffle again, I signal for them to go without me and fly up to Harry.

"Get it," I say, quietly and threateningly, "now."

"I'll do my damnedest," Harry says cheerfully. "We've only been playing for about an hour, Gin, no need to get your knickers in a knot yet."

And so, I go back to the game and continue with the evil death glares at Harry. He just looks back at me, infuriatingly, with his big green eyes twinkling with the joy of playing Quidditch. Sigh. This is why I love him.

Pay attention, Ginny, this is a game for your sanity!

And as for why this is so important, I'm still not going to tell anyone. Never, ever, ever. Too traumatizing to even consider re-living it. Let's just say that I was an unsuspecting victim and we can leave it at that.

We keep playing for another hour, until everyone's Quidditch joy has evaporated and we're all just plain starving.

"DAMN IT, HARRY!" I call down, "JUST CATCH THE BLOODY SNITCH!"

Language, I read on Mum's face as I fly with James and Lily, but hell, this needs to end.

Besides, language is just language right?

Harry just serenely looks around and smirks. Finally.

Flying at a breakneck speed (I would know), he flies toward where I'm assuming the Snitch is. The problem is that Charlie seems to have spotted it at the same moment.

Arms reaching out, both Seekers are headed right towards the area where the Snitch is. Even I can see it now. Just to tell you, Harry is convinced I need glasses and my only response is no way in hell.

Like crashing thunder, they collide midair, right where the Snitch would have been. Everything is silent in the aftermath, as they float eerily to the ground as if they were snowflakes falling in December.

All us Weasleys are quiet as the grave.

And then Dad, the only one with a wand, yells something I can't quite make out and it cushions their fall.

Coming out of my momentary shock, I look to my kids. James and Albus are ghostly white, and I would know because I have seen many a ghost, and Lily has a few tears tracing down her cheeks. We fly down directly to Harry, and Lily screams "Dad!"

Harry looks up at us, cheeks rosy from the excitement, and says "Hey!"

Damn you, Harry Potter, damn you.

Of course this is a joke to him. All's well that ends well, right?

I don't bloody think so.

When we jump to the ground, he envelopes the kids in a hug, and then it's my turn.

"I'm going to kill you," I whisper in his ear, "in a particularly violent way. I hope you are prepared for that."

"Obviously," he whispers back, "I mean, I am the Boy-Who-Lived, right?"

I snort, and remember the days when he avoided the fame at all costs. And then I remember that this is just Quidditch.

"Still," I say, huffily.

And then he pulls back and grins at me with infuriatingly devilish look.

Have you ever noticed that Harry is much too gorgeous for his own good? Good Merlin, we've been married for years, and looking at him still makes me all trembly. And my heart pounds spontaneously. I wouldn't be surprised if I getting heart palpitations from him.

But it is so worth it.

"For you, my lady." And he gets down on one knee, and holds out something to me.

The Snitch.

AN

I'd just like to thank everyone that has reviewed. They truly make me want to continue. The next chapter is already written!

Oh, and thank my dad and sister for finally leaving so that I could have some time on here. They are some serious computer hogs. Or I am. Depends who you ask :P


	10. Sadism, Hermione Style

**Author's Notes: **Well, I suppose this is your Halloween gift. All the candy that I've had in the last day has pretty much made me a very happy person. So, here you go!

**Disclaimer: **Nothing that you recognize is mine. I mean, obviously.

For the record, I love Harry Potter.

Thank you so much honey, for catching that bloody Snitch. I will never ever make fun of your Quidditch skills again. Or at least until you lose another game.

Everyone on my team cheers, and of course I pull him up and give him a congratulatory snog. Which is probably disturbing to my children, but who really gives a damn?

I certainly don't, not when he's kissing me like this!

Censoring my dirty thoughts. Trust me, you don't want to hear them.

"GET A BLOODY ROOM!" I hear Ron call. So typical of him, apparently some things never change. If anything, Ron seems to have gotten even less mature. What an idiot.

Then again, he's an idiot with torture devices.

I grin, and pull away from my saviour. Sigh. It's like love.

"WE WON!" I call to George, and he lands, looking a bit sour. "YOU HAVE TO PULL ANOTHER NAME!"

Oh, and there's one more thing that makes me a little giddy.

"AND I DON'T HAVE TO READ!"

There's something about his face that is scary and very intimidating. I'm starting to think that winning was a very bad idea.

"Alright, Ginny," George says as he comes to land next to me. "No need to yell!"

"Who's going to read if Aunt Ginny isn't?" Roxy asks her father, sweet as sugar. "Aunt Ginny actually can read."

"Well," George says, a neutral expression on his face, "I guess she's passed the torch to me."

That is so not good.

"Uncle George!"

"Really?"

"You're a good reader, Uncle George!"

The kids apparently feel the need to express their joy about his reading out loud. I would say that I feel more horror than anything, but hey, I'm just Ginny, right? No one in this family apparently cares about my feelings on any subject at this party anymore.

I'm starting to feel like I've made a dreadful mistake.

Everyone starts to mosey off on their lonesomes, for another hour of free time. And then we start the bonfire, which is an issue in itself.

But hey, at least I don't have to deal with any big group activity for awhile.

I wander off toward the house, and Hermione joins me.

"You alright?" She asks me, looking at me suspiciously.

I shrug.

"You've made it pretty clear that you don't want to be here," Hermione smirks. Damn, my pretending plan doesn't seem to have worked out very well.

Hermione really is no help to a person. She's just too Merlin-damned perceptive!

For some reason, that not one of us has been able to figure out, she actually enjoys these parties. I mean, why the hell would she like them? They're like the anti-Hermione. Chaotic and unorganized, two major things she hates.

I'm starting to think that the only reason she likes them is because she is a very sadistic person. She's enjoying my pain here way too much.

And everyone thought she hated Bellatrix Lestrange. I'd have bet a thousand galleons on it.

Now I have come to the conclusion that they had a secret relationship. Maybe pen pals?

Then again, maybe she was just a bad apple from the start. Though she did appear good through most of Hogwarts.

Good girls go bad, though.

Obviously. She married my brother.

With all these thoughts occupying my head, I was definitely not listening to anything she said.

"...so, that's what George is planning to do," Hermione finishes her explanation.

Why, oh why, did I choose to take that moment to zone out? I could have heard the whole bloody plan!

"Er, could you repeat that?"

Hermione looks affronted. Come on, please take pity on your only Potter sister-in-law!

"Well, why would I bother if you are so obviously not interested?" Hermione snapped, and was about to walk away from me when I grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards me.

"Please?" I said simply, for it's Hermione. She doesn't really fold to bribes, does she?

"All I'm going to say," she smirks in a very-Malfoy like way at me, "is that you deserve what you have coming to you."

Whoa. What does she mean by that?

"What?" I ask worriedly. "At least give me a hint, please Hermione?"

"Nope," she looks me in the eye. "You know, everyone expected me to be the one that hated these parties. Never Miss Ginny Weasley, who could overpower her brothers with a single hex!"

"They took my wand!" I cry, and she looks at me.

"Have you seriously not figured a way around that yet?" She asks incredulously. "Ron and I figured one out on the first day, so that we could bring them in if we had to! The only reason I don't is out of respect for your parents!"

Damn respect for my bloody parents. If she had a teensy little bit less of respect for them, I'd be able to nick her wand right about now!

"Audrey, prissy _AUDREY_, figured out a way around it." She still looks stunned. Well, maybe I would have figured a way out back when I was a teenager, not now that I'm old!

You know, it's really not a good sign when you start calling yourself old in your mind. I haven't even hit forty.

Well, what can one do? As I'm pretty sure someone once told me, acceptance is half the battle.

Though I might have made that up on my own.

I'm already losing my mind.

"So you are trying to get me to rebel against the current set of rules that are enforced at the Weasley Family Party?"

She nods kind of jerkily. She knows that if anyone finds out, she will be in trouble for relaying this kind of essential information.

Wait, what am I thinking?

Merlin, I'm doing that thing again where I act like the family is part of the Mafia?

If you think about it, this is a seriously weird kind of crazy. It's not like the Mafia is a big factor in life anymore.

So when I refer to gang groups, why do they always come to mind? I mean, there's enough terrorist groups to pick from as scare tactics in the Middle East this, well, century!

"Well, how do you propose I get my wand back now? Dad's already got it," I whine, and Hermione just rolls her eyes.

"How about you just ask for it?"

Huh. That might work. I knew there was a reason Ron kept her around.

Now, just to get him alone. That could be a teensy bit tricky.

I'm Ginny Potter, I can do anything!

Yeah, and the Pope's a Protestant.

AN

Like I said, your Halloween present. I tried to carve a Voldemort pumpkin. Didn't work out too well. Sigh. Next year! Part of the problem might have been the fact that where the mouth went was molding or something. Nasty.


	11. A Crashing, Burning End

This is going to have to be one hell of a plan.

Okay, so there is likely no feasible way that I will be able to actually get Dad by himself. My brothers are way too smart to let me do that.

Sometimes, I wish there had been just a little less for intelligence genes in the family. I mean, they obviously missed me.

I stare at Hermione's retreating back. She obviously has to get away from the enemy as fast as possible, or is at risk of becoming a target herself.

She goes over, quite sneakily I might add, and joins the Weasley brother huddle that Charlie, Bill and Ron are performing at the moment. Wait. Someone's missing.

George.

Where is he?

Oh, and Percy too, not like he has any really exciting things to add to this whole day.

If Percy had an exciting idea, I'd eat my wand.

Pause.

Well, only if I had it. It'd be rather difficult to eat an invisible wand, you know.

Hey, I wonder if ghosts have invisible food. Or the ethereal kind, that only they can touch. Then again, why don't we ever see them eating it?

Maybe they are just private eaters. I wish I had that luxury.

Sigh. Not that I'm ever going to get it. I mean, I was raised a Weasley, then attended Hogwarts, then played Quidditch on a team, then got married, and well, had kids.

Obviously my life will never include private eating.

Hey!

Maybe I can ask Harry to put me in a nursing home where I can eat in my room. Not that he'd listen. He'd just laugh.

I'll have to ask about putting that in my will.

Wow, that was an odd thought process.

I should probably go into the kitchen. At least Mum will be able to protect me a smidgen in there. I hope.

I wonder where the kids scarpered off to. I thought that they'd be hunting for candy like the cave people they are.

Snort.

Fleur appears, looking kind of agitated. Well, what ate her begonia?

You'd think, with the whole Veela thing going on, that her life would be much closer to perfect to mine, but apparently not.

She nods at me, and I say "Hi Fleur!"

Wow, fake cheerfulness much?

"Hello Ginny," she says quietly, and I wonder what's up.

"Anything wrong, Fleur?" I ask carefully. Maybe she's in on the plan.

"Nothing," she shrugs, "just wondering where Victoire and Teddy have got to. I hope Bill hasn't done something stupid."

Bless her, her accent's even better today!

"We need them for the next step in the..." She pauses for maximum effect, and articulates delicately in the French mannerly way of hers, "plan."

Well, then. I'm obviously not going to be included in this plan. Thanks for sharing.

She continues down the hall, and I am lost in my own thoughts for a moment.

Bugger.

Am I really that dense? She just told me about a plan, and I just let her walk away?

Damn.

Nothing to be done about it now, though.

I wander into the kitchen, and Mum's bustling around like the housewife she is. Making some kind of food, not quite sure what, and it smells like heaven. Though I've never been to heaven so I really shouldn't be making that comparison.

Mum looks at the apparently kind of dazed expression on my face, and says "Tea?"

Mental sigh.

Here's a little secret of mine.

I honest-to-Merlin hate tea. I know, I know, I'm British and therefore have some kind of biological claim on liking tea, but it's rather disgusting.

The problem is that everyone else would bug me about it forever and ever if I did anything like confess to my big tea hatred. So, I just stick with pretending I love it more than life itself.

At our house, though, we have a secret coffee maker. It is my saviour. Caffeine is a very necessary thing for a parent, you know.

My kids don't know about it though, unless one of them has seen me drinking it which could be possible, but hopefully Harry remains the only person who knows about my coffee fetish. Thank goodness.

Until the day that coffee has been accepted by the modern British folk, I have to keep my love hidden. It's kind of like Romeo and Juliet, you know.

Did I seriously just compare myself and coffee to Romeo and Juliet?

Dear Merlin.

So, like a good little girl, I take my cup of tea in silence, and pretty much pour half of the milk jug into it. Oh, and 3 teaspoons of sugar for good measure. Really not a very healthy sounding drink, eh?

A teaspoon of sugar helps the medicine go down!

Hermione really should never have lent us all their movies. They are really catchy tunes.

I suddenly notice that I'm humming the tune. Embarassing. Even though it's just Mum.

You know what I'm suddenly craving?

I really want to try out my brownies. I decide to make an attempt at getting one.

"See you later, Mum," I say as I bypass the pan and reach out my hand to try to grab one when Mum reacts.

"NO YOU DON'T GINEVRA WEASLEY! THOSE ARE FOR LATER!"

Well, doesn't that feel familiar. She is causing me to have a flashback of my childhood days spent in this house, with her as my... well, boss.

For lack of a better word.

Ah, deja-vu.

I slink out of the kitchen, brownieless, and hear her mumble something about how her own children don't follow the rules of etiquette.

Hmph. I'm grumpy now.

I randomly wonder where the kids have got to. Maybe should look for them in a bit.

Nah, they can fend for themselves.

I see Percy coming down the stairs.

"Hey Percy," I greet him, for I haven't really talked to him yet. He looks at me disdainfully.

Percy, though he has joined our family again for all intents and purposes, is probably the least Weasley of all of us. I suppose he probably has his little devilish streak in there somewhere, we all do, but we don't see it too often. Okay, ever. We are family, but in the grand scheme of things, Audrey and him are my least favourite relatives.

"Good day, Ginevra."

Well, how's that for casual? Jeepers. It's like he's a high class Ministry worker who only even talks to me because I'm a Potter now.

That's actually a pretty fair description of Percy's attitude. If it hadn't been for me marrying Harry, I'm sure he would have changed his last name by now. Or he would have failed at politics. Or maybe he would have tried to marry Harry himself.

That's a really nasty mental picture. My husband and brother together. Ew.

"How are you today Percy?" I say, quite cheerfully I might add.

"I'm alright," and to my shock a very strange expression steals its way onto his face.

A smirk.

"At least," he smiles slightly, and starts to chuckle, "way better than you will be."

Oh dear.

So there goes my theory that Percy isn't part of this.

The only thing that I can take comfort in is that I didn't go to him for help. That could have had very catastrophic results.

Especially if I told him about my plan to get the wand.

But still!

The last safe brother.

Gone in a puff of smoke.

I just stare at him dumbly.

He turns what he's carrying so that I can see it. _Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey._

Well, that could have a few catastrophic results. Not least of which come from the fact that it's Percy with the alcohol. Who knows what could happen?

And when Percy sets down the box for all of a second, grabs a bottle and chugs it, all I can do is stare.

Percy Weasley with alcohol.

The world as I knew it has pretty much come to an end.

A crashing, burning kind of end.

AN

The next chapter! Voila! Review, please and thank you!


	12. Spells and Songs

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Sadly.

**Spells and Songs**

Wow. I am so shocked that I can barely even breathe right now.

Okay, so I'm hyperventilating in the hallway. Your point is?

Percy has just moseyed on past me, apparently acting like he hasn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the Weasley Party so far! Seriously. He just looks so... Percy-ish! He hasn't changed at all. One would expect him to be swaggering around a little bit, he did just chug some Firewhiskey.

Maybe my brothers have finally taught him how to handle his liquor.

After the day I've been having, it wouldn't surprise me. They would take the entertainment out of the party. Sigh. Percy's my favourite brother to see drunk.

And now, they have taken away that joy of mine.

Someday, somebody will be paying for this travesty.

Though, I'm sure he will get pissed if he keeps going at this rate.

I decide to go outside, to where everyone is convened. This seems like a smart idea, I reassure myself. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer kind of thing, isn't it? Most people here I would currently classify as an enemy.

Besides, I slightly miss my husband. I haven't got to see him very much today.

Oh, and my kids I miss too. As annoying as they can be, I just love to cuddle them up sometimes, and ruffle their hair just to make them mad. They are so adorable! James, with his ever-present smirk, and Al's bright green eyes, and Lily's beaming smile when you make her really happy...

Squash that maternal instinct right now, Gin. Later you can admire your cute little kids all you want, but now you have to concentrate on the plan!

It's kind of sad that I have to give myself pep talks.

I walk out the door, and see them all convened together, like they were previously on my last venture outside.

Bill, Ron, Charlie, Hermione, and Harry are all lounging on picnic tables, surveying the area. They look like they are part of the army, as scouts or something. So weird.

Hold up.

Why are Hermione and Harry with them? Aren't they supposed to be my allies?

Then again, maybe this is better. They can be my spies, my minions on the inside.

Though I will have to remember not to refer to them as that, because Harry has always been a wee bit touchy about control.

If George was there, I'd go wand-hunting. As it is, I'm tempted.

But I see Angelina heading into the kitchen through the back way, so this is obviously not a little snog session. It is a guarding mission, and even I have to admit that George is probably one of the best people to entrust it to because I kind of think he would rather die than be bested by his wandless sister.

I go over and sit down next to Hermione, deeming it as the best position to be in. She should protect me, right?

Charlie looks at me as if I'm some sort of interesting dragon or something. Kind of creepy. It reminds of the way the twins used to look at me during childhood, like some sort of passing amusement.

Well, then. No need to creepy, my good brother!

Everyone stops their conversations, and just stares at me. I feel ostracized.

"So, er... how about that game, eh Gin?" Ron says quickly, trying to cover up the awkward pause.

I look at him through narrowed eyes, and decide to take some of the attention off of me. "Yeah, might have been even better if Harry and Charlie hadn't decided to commit suicide in the middle of it, the prats!"

Hermione nods emphatically. Thank you, dear sister-in-law! At least one of my family members are helping me in my fight against the insanity of Quidditch.

I am sounding pathetically hypocritical. I am the one who played professional Quidditch, you know.

And here I am, preaching about safe Quidditch habits. Wow, what a momentuous moment in this Potter's life!

Charlie just rolls his eyes. "Thought you had a bit more fun in you than that, Gin. Or at least that's what Harry tells me."

Harry and I glance at each other and blush scarlet.

No comment, folks.

I'm pretty sure that you don't want to hear about our sex lives.

And if you do, I am very disturbed.

Ron covers his ears quickly. "I don't want to hear about all the charms that Harry and Ginny use for fun, thank you very much!" He exclaims.

That makes two of us. And I think Harry agrees.

Aw. Just look at him blush.

"It's not like you don't know them, Ron." Charlie smirks. He seems to have decided to attempt to make us very uncomfortable. "You and Hermione have always had the family reputation as the 'feisty' couple."

Dead silence, as we all kind of try to compute how to react to that. I've got nothing. I would have laughed if I hadn't wanted to alienate Hermione, and if he hadn't been making fun of Harry and I a couple of seconds ago.

I thought that I would never say this, but thank goodness for Percy Weasley for coming over to interrupt.

"Audrey says she has something she wants to present to us," he says with a sigh.

I feel slightly uneasy.

What could Audrey have to show us?

If it's her sex spells, I may die.

Everyone comes to join us, obviously having been alerted to this event by Percy. I happen to notice the absence of all the children.

Oh dear.

Audrey leads them out of the house, looking joyful in a scary way, and they stand in a line in front of us. James is grinning excitedly, Al just looks confused, and there are tear tracks on Lily's face and her leg is bleeding. Well, this is an interesting chain of events.

Audrey stands in front of them like a conductor, waving her wand. And then they open their mouths.

_C-O-F-F-E-E  
Coffee is not for me  
It's a drink that people wake up with  
That it makes them nervous is no myth.  
Slaves to a coffee cup  
They can never give coffee UP!_

Nice final note, children. So very, very high.

Ouch.

Teddy is grinning at me, a devilish Weasley-like smirk upon his face. I wonder what's going on. Maybe it's about him and Victoire?

An epiphany.

Horror overcomes me. Has Audrey discovered my coffee fetish?

We all just stare at them.

"That was...er...unexpected." Harry says awkwardly, trying to make the atmosphere a little bit less stunned. "Why did you choose that particular song?"

"Oh," Audrey smiled slightly, and it kind of looks like the smile of a shark right before he bites you. Not that I would know or anything. "We were just inspired by real life."

Whoever told her is dead. Dead I tell you!

Mum nods slowly. "So who likes coffee?" She asks curiously.

"My mum!" James shouts.

Well, damn.

He is so grounded.

I should have known better than to drink coffee in front of them.

All the Weasleys are looking at me in a slightly confrontational matter. They seem to be little bit angry that I've been lying about my love of tea for all these years. Well, this is exactly why I didn't tell you, folks!

But still.

Busted.

AN

I'm sorry that this is a little late, but I've been crazy busy doing homework and my half-year courses' midterms. Sigh. But now they are finished, and my schedule should be a little clearer.


	13. Kitchen Gatherings

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine. Except for the plot.

Back away slowly. Very slowly. Slow enough that they won't realize that I'm trying to make a run for it. It's not working. They're coming in closer, closer still.

I'm cornered.

And very, very intimidated.

"Er," I squeak, "I'll be going... er..."

I try to think of a possible explanation or a reason why I should leave. Then again, maybe I should get this over with. It's always worse if you let them stew.

Before I can reflect on this thought, Lily bursts into tears in her place in line. She's only seven, you know. We haven't really had enough time to teach her that you never ever show weakness in front of your Weasley relations. Ever.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I coo in my dealing-with-children's-tears voice, and hurry through the crowd. I have to admit that this was the perfect moment.

"My knee hurts!" She cries, and I realize that I wasn't just imagining the blood on her leg. Huh. I guess I wasn't being a very attentive parent.

"Okay, honey, we'll go inside and I'll fix you right up," I say, grabbing her by the arm and leading her into the house before anyone really has a chance to react to this chain of events.

I lift her up onto the kitchen counter, and she sits there, sniffling away.

"What did you do to it?" I say, genuinely curious after my first inspection. It was one hell of a bleeder.

"Ran into a rock," she sniffles. Nice.

"Which one?"

"That really really big one that everyone always says to watch out for," she sighs.

Smirk.

Like mother, like daughter.

I can still remember my first encounter with that thing. Very deadly.

That rock should be taken away for security purposes. It's huge, and in the randomest place possible.

Still, it's daylight and she shouldn't have run into it. At least when I did it was pitch black.

"How'd ya manage that?" I ask casually.

"Dominique was chasing me," she mutters.

"Why was she chasing you?" I exclaim in outrage, as I pour some more potion onto the wound.

"Playing tag," she shrugs, "and she was It. As usual."

I have to admit, that this makes me laugh.

Dominique definitely didn't inherit the Weasley speed, and so is always It whenever there is some kind of game that involves running. She's even more proof that you don't have to be particularly agile to succeed in flying. She's awesome.

I'm loving that my seven-year-old daughter noticed this. Dom's own parents don't even know how much she sucks at running. Or at least they won't admit it.

Actually, I'm slightly surprised that Dominique got close enough to Lils that she would be desperate enough to run into a rock.

I bet that Fleur is doing agility runs just to make her faster. I will have to ask her one of these days.

Once this party is over, of course.  
"Well," I say and set her back down on the ground, "you are good to go! How's that feel?"

"Great!" She giggles, and quickly gives me a hug. Aw. My little girl.

"Thanks, Mummy! You're my hero!" She exclaims and runs off to play like she always does. My heart feels fit to burst.

At least somebody still loves me.

I stand in the kitchen for a few minutes, revelling in the fact that my daughter thinks I'm awesome. Well, who can argue with that?

Oh yeah.

Is everyone still outside? Quite likely.

Typical outdoorsy Weasley behaviour.

I hear whispers in the hallway though. I peek through the door and see George and Angelina.

Snogging!

Ew, ew, ew!

My eyes are burning!

I back up quickly, and hurry out the other door to the entrance way when I hear even more words. This had better not be a snog session.

Otherwise, I will Floo home and sleep for a few days.

I recogize Al's voice. What's he doing, lurking around?

That's more of the kind of behaviour that I'd expect from my eldest, not my youngest son.

You know, complete randomness.

"Here's the deal," I hear him whisper. "We team up, and take them out."

Who the hell is he talking to?

"It won't work, Al," I hear another voice say, "and you know it. James will just beat you when you get home."

I can almost see the defiant look that Al must be wearing. So much like his father, he is.

That was kind of a Yoda sentence wasn't it?

Merlin, I love Star Wars.

I make a mental note to watch it soon. I'm not sure who will watch it with me, but I can always find a way to ground Jamie and make him watch it with me as punishment.

There's an idea!

"Mum and Dad won't let him when we're at home," Al says firmly. "They can control him in a closed environment."

"Maybe..." I recognize Hugo now. "Could we try to get the girls, too?"

"No!" Two voices say at once.

"That's against the code," little Louis Weasley declares. "The girls don't get included in the Weasley Family Party Battles. Remember?"

"Exactly," Al says grimly. "And that's exactly why we need to team up against James and Fred so that we can win."

"You haven't been here the last couple of times, Al! You have no idea what it's like!" Hugo sounds kind of desperate.

"I know," Al says, and he sounds kind of worried. "That's why we need to work together. I know Fred and James better than you two, but you guys know the whole party situation better than me."

I'm kind of curious as to what got my eldest son this kind of reputation, but on the other hand I'm pretty sure that I'd rather not know. Especially since I'd then have to punish him.

And if I didn't, it would just back up his idea that I'm weak. And that we can not have.

The other two agree, and begin their plot. Nice way of manipulating your younger cousins, Al.

Okay, so impressed is likely not the right kind of response. But it's the one I'd prefer to take. I don't want to have to punish him for genius, you know.

"It was rather well done, wasn't it?" A voice behind me says, and I almost scream.

Harry bloody Potter.

"Bastard," I say tiredly, "trying to scare me like that."

His green eyes glitter with amusement. "No, just trying to make an innocent comment about the activities of my own son."

I roll my eyes at that.

Jeepers, he's gorgeous.

"Don't test me," he grins, "now that I know your secret of eavesdropping on our family. Blackmail, my love!"

"Right," I say sarcastically, "because blackmailing your own wife is so smart."

"Sure, it means that I have her, my bloody gorgeous wife, at my mercy."

Well, I have to admit that I kind of like that idea.

Mhm, he smells just lovely. Kind of minty in an awesome way.

That was a very random thought.

He puts his arms around me and pulls me close.

"Mercy sounds like a good idea to me right now," I say faintly, and I watch his eyes turn a shade darker as he leans in.

I suddenly wish that we were in a private room instead of the kitchen.

I don't think I could look Mum in the face again if anything ever happened in here. It'd be too awkward.

Plus I'd always know that she had made our food on the table that we had... you know. Ew.

Imagine doing that on your parents' kitchen table.

Imagine your parents doing that on YOUR table.

Ah.

I bet you just grimaced, didn't you, dear brain?

It's not a good sign that I have mental conversations, is it?

"Me too," he admits to my delight, and he kisses me.

Don't judge him prematurely, just because of how Cho reputed him to kiss.

Nobody kisses more thoroughly than Harry Potter, I'll have you know.

Mhm.

AN

Truth is, I'm sorry that this is late. Like really. But life has been crazy, between tests, homework, driving practice, shopping, hockey games, etc. Yeah, it's been nuts, especially since I usually don't do that much so it's been like culture shock. But anyway, it's almost Christmas break, so hopefully there should be more time for writing soon. And I already have the next chapter done! (Which is why this was so late, I'm trying to keep ahead by one chapter at all times). But review, please and thank you, any author will tell you how motivating it is!


	14. Promises

Disclaimer: So not mine. Like, at all.

We emerge, a little bit, erm, happier from the kitchen, thankfully not running into anyone else getting up to hanky panky in the corridor.

I straighten up my ruffled clothing a bit, and I see Harry try to flatten his hair a bit. I roll my eyes.

"I don't know why you bother," I say to him kind of snappishly. "It's never going to lie flat, no matter what the hell you do to it."

"You're the one who always said you like the way it makes me look dashing," he shoots back, and I back down.

He has me pegged.

Harry opens the door for me, and I duck through. I stand there though, and he runs into me.

"What the hell, Gin?" Harry says, and I glare at him.

"Why are they," I wave my hand at the family, "all still congregated out here like it's a bloody wedding?"

"Well," Harry says, using his deeply sarcastic voice, "that's what happens when the family has a party. Everybody comes."

Thank you, genius.

"I'm not stupid," I begin a little speech here, when I hear another voice.

"Coulda fooled the rest of us," Teddy says on his way out the door, Victoire accompanying him.

"Don't be such a prat," Victoire says to him, and gives him a little smack on the shoulder. A girl after my own heart.

"Abuse," Teddy says with a grin, and she just rolls her eyes.

"Abuse is what I would call the way you treat your godmother," she says grumpily, but we can all see that she's just teasing.

"Well," Teddy smirks, "technically she's not my godmother. So it's more of a bullying thing than abuse."

Victoire and I roll our eyes at the same time. Pah.

We follow them out to the yard, and everyone turns to look at us. All the others are already there, and we are the last little cluster to arrive.

James is practically bouncing with excitement, and I can see that both he and Fred hope that they're picked. Weird little children. Strange that they are some of the oldest, really, neither are very mature.

Wonder who they get that from?

I mean, seriously. This whole party is basically an excuse for all the parents to act like we're the ten-year-olds again. Merlin.

By the way, my life as a ten-year-old was awful. Ron had left me to my own devices, or so he said, but he pretty much had left me at the mercy of my mother. She made me knit scarves!

I have always been the worst knitter in the world. Surprisingly, Percy has always been the best at it other than Mum, but he hides that little secret for he doesn't think it's manly enough. Psh. I would love a man who could knit everything for the kids!

Fleur and Bill are standing together, talking in hushed voices. All the other families are beginning to corrall their kids around them.

James and Fred are running through, just making general trouble and chaos. Angelina grabs Fred by the back of the shirt, and pulls him into the George Weasley Family Huddle.

She is a very smart woman.

Except for the whole she-married-George thing. That was rather dumb. She should have known what her kids would turn out like.

Therefore, I follow in her footsteps as James rushes through the crowd past us.

"NO YOU DON'T!" I yell, and yank him to where Harry and I are standing. Somehow, Harry has mysteriously caught Lily, and she's giggling as he tickles her. James, of course, doesn't want to be left out, and begs Harry to tickle him.

And really, who can resist that little devil?

Al is the calm child, walking towards me without any real struggle. I love middle kids. They are so much more... normal. And easier to deal with.

But way sneakier. They kind of have to be.

Mum is looking very grumpy from her place next to Dad. I expect she's jealous of the task that the rest of us have when we gather the children. I bet she misses it.

I don't think I will. Everyone always says to treasure when your kids are kids, but personally I think that's the worst time. They're huggable and cuddleable and cute, but they can be very bratty. Take Dom for instance.

Then again, what do you expect when Fleur's her mother? It's that ornery Veela blood coming out in them.

Though I wish I could turn into a bird. That would be stellar.

I seriously need to learn to not get so distracted. I think it's the fact that I'm a very perceptive person that messes me up, you know.

George goes up and he's holding his wand up to his mouth. Oh dear. I know what this means.

"IT IS TIME," George yells, and everyone goes silent, "TIME FOR THE ANNUAL WEASLEY PRANK PICKING! I WILL NOW COMMENCE TO PICK THE TARGET."

I love the way he actually states what he's doing. I mean, when you are picked you either take it stride, or go and hid in the corner.

There's only two extremes, and nothing at all in between.

Everyone is hushed, as if waiting for their fate. Fred looks ridiculously excited, and Rose looks very annoyed. Her mother's genes coming out in her.

Rose and Hermione have the exact same expression on their faces, one of crinkly noses and furrowed eyebrows.

Harry is stiff next to me, and I can see that James is just as excited as Fred. Lily isn't really showing any emotion, just kind of scuffing her shoes in the grass and getting the white parts a vibrant green. Al's face is like a blank slate, cleared of all emotion. I'm kind of worried about him, he's getting more keep-everything-bottled-up like Harry every day. Why can't they just be like the rest of us, and get their damn emotions out there?

Damn it, George, hurry up the process!

Ron is going up, carrying the hat solemnly. It looks like a funeral procession of some kind, the speed he's walking at.

George and Ron have always loved dramatics.

But seriously, how much slower can you walk?

He's giving Victoire a run for her money in the family's slowest walk contest. I mean, Merlin! And Victoire's been winning since she was three!

Even the kids are getting antsy.

"GET A MOVE ON!" Hugo shouts out at his father. Thank you, my dear boy.

Ron just shoots him a pissed off look, but does speed up just a teensy bit.

George has an equally serious expression on his face, and Ron finally gets to where George is standing.

Ron being Ron, and a bloody idiot who has watched too many movies with his children, holds up the hat in typical Lion King fashion.

Funny how I know that.

Hermione rolls her eyes at her husband. Good. At least she's annoyed at his theatrics.

Everyone else just cheers, and I hear a little voice singing the song from that moment. Lucy. I forgot how much she loved that movie.

Hermione's influence has changed us all. And I suppose the aftermath of the war helped out too. A lot of people I know now watch movies. I mean, they are one of the smartest things that Muggles have ever come up with! I bet Draco-bloody-Malfoy lets his kid watch Disney!

At our house, the kids watched Disney movies all the time until something very tragic happened. Lily came to the sudden realization that Mufasa died, and that was the end of her Disney love. For a couple of years afterward, we couldn't even turn the Lion King on without tears. Thank Merlin she's not terrified of it anymore.

Of course, George can't reach the hat when it's up that high. He has to quickly magic up a chair, upon which he stands.

"AND THE TARGET IS..." He looks around at all of us, "DRUMROLL FIRST PLEASE!"

Everyone begins clapping their hands or patting their knees. Just to be different, I stomp my feet. Harry copies me, the little bugger.

Hmph. Stealing my individualiy like that.

George seems satisfied with the drumroll, and commences with the picking.

"AND THE TARGET IS..." His hand delves deep into the hat, and fishes around for a second. Then he pulls it out, painstakingly slowly.

"ALBUS POTTTTTER!" He cries, and everyone cheers in excitement.

I turn and look at my son, the meaning of this not sinking through yet.

His face changes from fear, to a bubbling excitement.

Oh crap.

Harry's looking at me, and there is a very big grin spread across his face.

Seriously. I'm an idiot.

Remember that promise I made to Al?

Yeah?

Well, it looks like I'm going to have to honour it.

AN

Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! I most likely won't update until the New Year, but if I feel really inspired on the 27th or something... well, you never know! Please review, and give me your opinions on Ginny's character, everyone else, and my use of sarcasm. Constructive criticism is always welcome!


	15. Interesting Developments

Disclaimer: So not mine. If you think it is, Google "author of Harry Potter." You won't get my name!

Hell and damnation.

I think somebody up there seriously has it out for me. No joke. Or maybe I did something extremely awful in a past life and I deserve this. Ha. I'm innocent, I tell you! Innocent!

My brain rambles on to some weird places these days.

Harry puts his hand on my back and gives me a shove forward.

Great, now everyone is looking at me.

"George!" I call, and he looks at me as if I am a very interesting little morsel.

"What, my little honeybee?" He coos sweetly into his wand.

"I'm not a bloody bee!" I shout, and everyone laughs. Of course, all the mothers are pretty much shooting me death glares at the same time, but that's so beside the point.

"I have to take Al's place!" I shout over the laughter, and then everything goes silent.

Now George isn't the only one looking at me weirdly.

"Why would you do that?" Bill laughs, obviously knowing that there are some superior forces at work here. Everyone else begins to shout the same thing.

"I PROMISED AL I WOULD!" I shout, and everyone calms down a smidgen. "It was the only way I could get him to come here," I admit wearily.

Charlie bursts into raucous laughter.

"You could have just saved us all this damned trouble, and lost the Quidditch game! Damn, Harry, you just can't let me win even once," He exclaims, and everyone laughs.

People begin to drift away from our little cluster to go find better things to do. Probably plan for my doom or something, the prats.

I don't have very high expectations with my family, do I?

Harry is still standing where I left him, that casual smirk still on his face. Merlin, can he get any hotter?

"Damn you, Harry," I snap at him as I walk towards him, "damn you."

"That isn't a very proper way to talk to your husband, now is it?" He grins at me, and his eyes smolder in hidden laughter.

"It's your entire fault! You're the one who tricked me into that bloody promise!"

"Nope. I disagree. That was all your son, Gin."

"It bloody well was not! It was all you, Harry James Potter!"

"Oh, but I disagree Mrs. Potter."

I glare at him violently. He is going to pay one of these days. He'll be tossed onto the couch, shut out from the bedroom.

Damn, that's a bad punishment. Then again, I can't do that.

If I did, what fun would I have at night?

Hehe.

I decide to stomp away. Flare for dramatics, one might say. Roxanne and Dominique are standing just inside the door to the house, whispering.

"Okay, you know what you have to do right?" Dominique asks Roxy.

"Yes, we've talked about this like a million times!" Roxy rolls her eyes.

"It's important! We have to make sure you know what you are going to do!"

"I know, I know. I'm only 6, though, Dom!"

Dom glares. "You always say you want to be more like the older kids, and now is your chance!"

"But I wanna play with my Wicked Witches!"

"Your point?"

"And I want Lily to play with me."

"No way. You might tell her."

"But she already knows!"

"Not about this part. And what if she tells the wrong person, huh?"

"Fine. You owe me."

"You truly are a Weasley, Rox."

"Thanks! On another note, though, Victoire and Teddy are finally together, Dom!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. You told me to watch out for blackmail material for you. And if James and Fred knew..."

"All hell would break loose."

"Exactly." Roxy's grin practically lit the whole room.

"Thanks, kiddo," Dominique says, then ruffles her hair.

"You're only three years old than me, you don't get to call me kiddo!" Roxy huffs, but stays in her little huddle with Dom.

I wonder where Rose is. She's usually Dom's partner in crime, and her absence is slightly worrying.

I move away from where they are standing, so that they won't notice my sneaky observation skills. In this family, it's better to hold your secrets as long as possible.

After all, there are no families without the lies.

I shall have to remember that little saying and tell it to George and Ron sometimes. It'd give him a good laugh. Of course, I wouldn't do that until they decided that it would be worth their while to be a bit kinder to their younger sister.

Hey, wait! I should find out what this plan of theirs is.

You are a smart one, Gin.

I sidle out to where they are standing again. "Hey girls, how's it going?"

They look up at me, and for a second fear flashes across Dominique's face. "Pretty well, Auntie," They chorus.

I have them cornered now. Roxy looks worried now, too.

Damn it, I wish I had my wand. Must try to get that back from Dad, again. I get so distracted.

"What are the two of you talking about," I coo sweetly. "Just tell me, sweeties, and nobody needs to get hurt!"

"I'll never tell!" Roxy cries, and Dom groans. So they ARE up to something. Triumph!

I smirk. "So you are up to something!"

"No," Dom states angrily, "we aren't."

"Yes we are!" Roxy smiles brightly.

"No we're not!"

Interesting. Argument in the ranks.

"So you are or you aren't," I say with a sigh, "which is it? And no wasting my time, please, children."

"He told us we couldn't tell," Roxy smiles. Ah, the innocence of a small child. Only a year younger than Lily, but Lily is obviously much more sneakier. I am so proud to be her mother.

"Who's he?"

Roxy opens her mouth to tell me, good little girl that she is, but Dominique slaps a hand over her mouth. What the hell, Dom? I was about to get some awesome information here.

"Hello ladies," Harry's smooth voice rings out as he greets the three of us. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," we all say quickly.

"We were just leaving," Dom smiles brightly and pulls Roxy into the safety of the Burrow. Bugger.

"So," he smirks at me, "what were you really doing?"

"Interrogating them," I sigh, and he just chuckles. What kind of a word is chuckle, anyway?

"Why?" he asks curiously.

"I overheard them making a dastardly plot," I shrug, "and decided that I must put an end to it immediately."

"Here's some advice," he smiles at me and pulls me a bit closer to him, "don't bully the children. Go straight to the source."

I nod and, thinking he is about to kiss me, tilt my head up.

"See ya later, Gin. Good luck on your mission," he smirks, and before I have time to think he is already ducking around the corner of the house.

Little bastard.

He is going to get it one of these days. I will send all of my brothers after him, just for his cruel and unusual punishment of me.

Except not Charlie, because he's a bully. I don't want Harry too hurt. He is my husband, after all.

And not Bill, because he'd castrate him. And well, we can't have that happen. Just can't. For obvious reasons.

And George would just laugh, and say I deserve it.

Percy wouldn't be of any use, because it would break too many of the Ministry rules for him to involved in anything of the sort.

As for Ron, well, maybe he'd come through. Likely not though, because Harry is his best mate and all, and pretty much Hermione's big brother, so killing him would likely result in a divorce for Ronald, and at the very least a million years on the couch. So yeah, Ron would just side with George.

So, they leave their little sister to defend herself again. Prats.

I thought brothers were supposed to be overprotective. Damn them and their cruel tendencies and their marshmallow hearts.

Oh, and their weakness for women. It doesn't help. They are so whipped.

Then again, I'm pretty much at Harry's mercy. Even when he leaves me standing on my lonesome in a clearing, I still have the hots for him.

I am much more whipped than them.

Damn Harry and his scorching eyes.

"Ginny?" I hear Audrey's quiet voice, and I whirl around.

She's holding the book she was reading earlier, and is very pale.

"It's time for George to read," she says quietly.

Merlin, is there ever a peaceful moment? It's like this so-called relaxing party is actually an exercise in patience and torture! Probably all Mum's idea, more 'mother training', as she calls it.

And damn it, but Audrey is the most patient one of all of us.

That's likely why she is very good at the avoiding-everyone part of this. Like ridiculously good at it. Maybe that's why Percy married her, for her sneaky talents.

Wait, Percy is the least sneaky of us all.

Why would he marry a sneaky person who would give birth to sneaky children?

I don't have time now to think on this. I'll get back to it later, and figure out a hypothesis for the whole biological occurrence that caused sneaky little Molly and Lucy to be born.

"You know you have to go, eh?" Audrey says, looking down at her feet. "If you don't, well, who knows what certain other people will tell them? About your avoiding location."

Pardon?

Did Audrey just threaten me?

The Percy Weasleys are full of surprises tonight!

AN

Sorry! I really apologize for the long time because I really meant for this to be out a lot earlier, but I kept procrastinating putting it up! Bright side: I got a laptop for Christmas so posts in the future should be quicker!


	16. Why I Hate Books

Disclaimer: It's not mine.

I'm still not going to consider Audrey a threat. That would be like rewiring my whole brain, all because of my new possible wrong perception of her. Not going to happen. It's taken me long enough to get a decent brain as it is.

Nope, can't think about it like that.

Instead, I blearily follow Audrey out to the bigger part of the yard. I'm kind of scared by the fact that everyone is pretty much already here. Seriously.

I can't believe that Mum had this many children. And allowed all of them to procreate. This is ridiculous.

Obviously she never heard of protection!

Abstinence is the only real way!

I will have to remember to emphasize this to Lily when I give her talk on the birds and the bees. I'd tell James and Al, too, but that is so Harry's job. Good luck, my poor husband.

I'm more of a small brood kind of person myself. Seven kids would have probably done me in. James has already brought me close.

To tell you the truth, I'm kind of worried about when James will go to Hogwarts next year. I'm already planning the Howlers I'm going to have to send.

Oh, and our little secret: we're making bets. We're planning to bet on every single child, but the parents can't bet. But, at least Harry and I can bet on Fred! It's the closest to the number without going over, and I'm going to dominate. It's kind of awful of me to want my child to get in trouble but he is Fred's best mate, after all.

And Merlin knows that you can't stop fate.

George is sitting in a huge chair in the center of everyone. I'm not even sure how to describe the chair. It's this garish shade of red that clashes horribly with the Weasley hair, and sparkles on top of it. I'm not surprised that Fleur is shading her eyes with her hand.

But seriously, it's one hell of a monster chair. No wonder that George would bring it.

"What are you sitting on?" I hear Hermione ask him tiredly. I think she long ago gave up on actually regulating this party. In her mind, now, it's probably just not worth the effort.

I concur.

George pretty much just ignores her. I think that he thinks that her comment isn't even worth acknowledging, but the truth is that the entire bloody family would like the answer again.

Then again, I don't think George really has an answer for that. He's kind of random like that, enough that he doesn't even have an explanation for his actions.

He puts his wand to his throat, and everyone quiets for basically no reason.

"THE READING OF THIS YEAR'S STORY WILL NOW COMMENCE!"

He definitely just popped my eardrums. I will never be able to hear the same again.

"Harry James Potter was born on July 31, 1980 to Lily and James Potter..."

Blah, blah, blah.

Harry's cheeks are flushed a light red. Poor man.

Damn it, George! Did you really have to be so cruel?

The kids, sadly including ours, are hanging on to George's every word while the other grown-ups talk quietly, quite obviously bored out of their bloody minds. I married the man, but I don't really need to hear a huge description of his life. I mean I know all the important stuff.

"When he was twelve, the Chamber of Secrets was opened at Hogwarts. Actually, an interesting fact about this is that it was his wife who was opening the Chamber of Secrets."

Most of the kids just turn to stare at me. Teddy just looks at me with that cheeky grin, and I want to scowl at him. He is so in trouble, I will never let Harry take him on another godson-godfather trip.

"Auntie, what's the Chamber of Secrets?" Lucy asks curiously.

Uh oh.

They don't get the full story until they are about 11, so I can't really go into the whole story yet.

"Er, George, how about we commence with the story?" I say and look at him pleadingly.

"All right, dear sister." He coos at me, and Charlie chuckles.

Damn brothers.

"Also interesting about that year for romantic developments is the Valentine sent to Harry by Ginny Weasley, during Gilderoy Lockhart's time at the school. It read:

_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, __  
__His hair is as dark as a blackboard. __  
__I wish he was mine, he's really divine, __  
__The hero who conquered the Dark Lord. _

I want to die.

The kids all burst into laughter, and practically fall to the floor in what could be an amazing death act.

Except, it's a laugh. Thank Merlin.

"Did you really write that, Mum?" James howls, and I hold my head up high. I don't really know what to say to this, because I did.

Kind of.

With Fred and George putting ideas in my head, and cheering me on as I wrote it out. And then I threw it into the garbage.

And they took it and gave it to that damn dwarf. I don't think I have ever been so embarrassed, even counting this moment, than I was then. No joke.

Everyone laughs, and George keeps reading.

I'm not listening at all, I'm definitely just waiting for this to be over so that I can go find a good corner and curl up and cry about my stupidity. And how even my own children laugh at me.

Then all of a sudden, I come back.

"And in Harry's sixth year, he was forced to serve detention with Professor Severus Snape-"

"That greasy old git?" Fred sneers, and I see Harry turn to ice.

"That 'greasy git'," Harry says quietly, but audibly, "was the bravest man I have ever known."

Everyone stops laughing, and Harry just stares straight ahead, lost in the memories.

I'm not sure what he's thinking about, but I'm pretty sure it's not about daisies and roses. Actually, I think it's about lilies.

"Er, I'm just gonna keep reading..." George says quickly. "Because of these detentions, he missed the final Quidditch match of the year. When he had to go back to Gryffindor after serving his detention, he had no idea about the result of the game."

Harry snorted. "I had no bloody idea," he muttered to me, "no idea at all."

"Upon finding out the score of the game and Gryffindor's subsequent victory-"

"This sounds like a bloody textbook," Teddy mutters, and Victoire slaps him. Good girl.

"Miss Weasley rushed him, and he swept her off her feet and snogged her in front of the entire House." George finishes with aplomb.

I never thought that this would actually be in a book about Harry's life.

Damn, damn, damn.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy are glaring at Harry. Oh Merlin.

"You actually snogged her in front of everyone?" Charlie whispers menacingly.

George is still reading, and the kids are still listening avidly. I know he's listening to us though, by the devious expression on his face. He totally had this planned the whole time.

"Harry, this could have ruined your whole political future!" Percy exclaims. He would be worried about that.

"What can I say?" Harry grins good-naturedly. "Your sister is gorgeous."

"I can't believe you just said that," Bill mutters. "Please forgive me, Merlin, for vomiting on your green earth."

Fleur huffs. "I think it is sweet, that he loves her enough to kiss her in front of everyone!"

"I thought that was what a wedding was for," Bill says with a shrug.

They all join into an argument on the whole Ginny-kissed-Harry-in-front-of-everyone-and-shouldn't-that-be-the-point-of-the-weddong thing, and Harry grabs my arm and pulls me away from them.

"You want to leave?" He asks.

"Of course," I say with a roll of my eyes.

"Okay, come with me."

"What are we going to do?"

"Your mum wants us to degnome the garden while we're here, and she said that she would send the kids on later to give us a hand."

"Okay," I agree, and it is okay because, cliché as it sounds, I trust Harry to take me places.

Told you it was cheesy.

AN

Thank you very much to those of you that take the time to review! I read every single one, but I often don't reply, just because I think you'd rather I spent my computer time writing, right? :P Okay, updates may be even more erratic than usual, as I have exams, homework, coaching, tutoring, and volunteering, not to mention eating, sleeping, and school. So, forgiveness? Please review, as they really do inspire me!


	17. Gnomes

"I can't believe we're actually going to do this for Mum," I say, and glare at him. "At home, you're always whinging about degnoming everything, but no, as soon as Molly Weasley asks you, you jump at the chance to show off your muscles by tossing gnomes!"

Harry just laughs, and grins at me. "Yep, that's pretty much how it works."

Sigh. He's not supposed to agree with me, he's supposed to argue so I can get mad at him!

"Damn you," I mutter. "Though, at the risk of full disclosure, thanks for saving me from the book."

Harry's eyes grow distant. "That wasn't as much for you as it was for me."

"How so?"

"I hate hearing people talk about me," he admits. It's not really that much of an admission, because I totally knew that. Whoops.

"Didn't you tell George that?"

"I did," Harry mutters, "but you know your brother. He just said he'd make it as unembarassing for me as possible."

"Obviously," I shrug, "he didn't include me in that."

Harry smirks. "Obviously."

"I hate tossing gnomes. Why'd you agree to this?"

"Alone time," he shrugs.

A man after my own heart.

Then again, he's had it for a very long time. Since I first saw him at the platform when I was only a wee ten-year-old, I have been utterly infatuated.

Actually, it's rather unhealthy.

Whatever. Screw that. He's mine now.

"What do you plan to do with this alone time?" I say, genuinely curious.

"Well, what do you think?" I open my mouth to reply when he says, "don't answer that. I guess I want to convince you to er... try to enjoy this party for the craziness, especially since now you are the target."

"How?" I whine, "by family rule, I'm not allowed to fight back!"

"Tomorrow you can. So threaten them with that."

"No. Then they'll hurt me as much as possible tonight."

"True. But Gin, you're not a coward. You're a bloody Gryffindor, so you may just have to take a couple of hits."

"Thanks, honey. Thanks for implying that I'm acting like a Slytherin."

"You're just not being your usual er... what George would call 'feisty' soul."

"Fine. Help me take them out then."

"Can't do that. It's against the rules, and you know that."

Actually, I did know that but I was hoping he didn't care.

"You broke plenty of school rules back in the day. The hell with a family rule, Potter."

We pause momentarily, hearing a burst of laughter behind us. Harry just shrugs, and I feel a shiver of fear go up my spine. What's going on in there?

I voice this thought to Harry.

"Probably just got to the part where they talk about how you are terribly afraid of dogs."

Did I mention that? I'm absolutely terrified of the creatures, for reasons unknown to even me. Like seriously scared.

Actually, Harry used to bug me about that all the time, funnily enough.

Bastard.

"That's in that book?"

"Yeah, apparently they talk about how you're afraid of the Animagus form of my godfather or something once they get to fifth year. Apparently they can all see the irony in that."

So can I. Not that I will admit that.

Amazing how little insignificant parts of your life are suddenly amazingly exciting when you marry Harry Potter. It's actually kind of bloody ridiculous, you know. Such is the life of the celebrity.

And George just laps it all, up. Ron too, I suppose, though he is a little bit better about it because he has seen how much Harry hates it and is smart enough to think that there may be a reason for that.

"Here we are," Harry sighs, and leans down to pick up a gnome.

For some reason, gnomes are attracted to Harry. When we degnome, they all flock to him and he just flings them off. It's a very odd biological occurrence, you know, one that I don't understand at all.

Though it is rather gratifying to know that even gnomes think your husband is hot. But, you know, he really is.

I hear the whoops of James and Lily. What are they doing?

"Why are they coming this way?" I ask Harry curiously.

"Didn't I just tell you that your mum was going to send the kids on later?"

"Oh yeah. Right. Sorry."

As per usual, James and Lily rampage into our little area here. Kids.

Al, of course, ambles up behind them. He is so much like his father, in both looks and personality. Both are sneakier than Slytherin that I've ever met.

Obviously, though, I love James and Lily for how crazy, and unsneaky they are, but I also love Al for how sneaky he is. That's a real talent, there, so thank Merlin that George hasn't tried to harness it yet.

"Hey Mum," he smirks at me. I'm suspicious of him and his plans with his little cousins. Like really.

"Hey, honey," I smile anway, and kiss him on the forehead then ruffle his hair. "Go help James with the gnomes."

He glares at me, wipes my kiss off his head, then goes to join James.

Lily is standing as far away from her father as possible. She's terrified of gnomes, for some strange reason. Thank Merlin she didn't inherit that biological attraction thing that Harry's got going on.

"Daddy... do I really have to help?" I could hear Lily plead with her dad over the excited squealing of gnomes.

"Yes, princess."

"Why? I hate them."

"Well, honey, they probably hate you too."

Lily looks like she has been horribly insulted and forgets about her plight. Ah, the concentration level of a seven-year-old. "Why would they hate me?"

"Because you hate them."

"Oh. That sounds like a...a self-destroying thing Daddy, like whatever you said that one time about love."

"Er, a self-destructive circle, and I was only talking about certain kinds of love." Harry gives me a sideways glance. He has learnt to tell when I am antagonized.

"Okay," Lily shrugs, and I think her moment of panic is over, but I'm wrong. "I'm _never _going to get married."

Pardon? I need her to get married so that I can have grandchildren to spoil rotten. Shameless, I know, already wanting your daughter to grow up and get married and have kids when she's seven.

"I think you'll change your mind by then," I smirk over at the two of them. "At least I sure did."

"Mummy, why did you marry Daddy?" She asks inquisitively. I've going to have to make this good, because her brothers are listening.

What I really, really want to say is very very naughty. My mother would be ashamed.

But I know that isn't really appropriate. Sigh. Damn age.

"Because he looks very, very good in a bathing suit," I say after a moment's thought. Just embarrassing enough while keeping it kid-friendly. Perfect.

James and Al both look repulsed. Lily wrinkles her nose.

"But boys are icky!"

"Girls have cooties" Al shouts, but James just quells him with a look. Obviously, this topic is not of great importance to him as the kids have gone over this puzzle many times and have yet to come to a concrete answer.

Lily just looks at him. Like her mother, she can sense when the time is right to argue. And when it's not.

Harry distracts the boys from Lily with a few teasing remarks on the poorness of their throws. Because they're boys, they immediately enter into a gnome-throwing contest. Gnomes are flying this way and that within seconds.

Suddenly, I hear a scream.

I whirl around, to see Lily running in circles, chased around by a gnome.

James and Al, who at first were worried, collapse in laughter on the ground. Harry's laughing too, but you can still see a trace of worry left over on his face.

"HELP ME!" She screams, but I'm a statue of discipline, while her brothers laugh. Finally, Harry manages to catch up with the gnome and fling him over the fence.

Of course, he immediately falls to the ground afterwards.

Lily just looks traumatised, but falls to the ground whether in laughter or horror, I'm not sure.

I look at her, and take in the situation.

I decide to relish in the delight of the day, and who can blame me?

I hit the ground.

AN

I don't even know what to say other than I'm sorry.

I guess, I just haven't been in the mood to be even a little funny for awhile. But anyway, here's the next chapter, hope you liked it!

Oh, and review, because the fact that there's people out there who read my stories is what motivates me to update. So thank you to those who have reviewed!


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